where i was then...where i want to be

On 8/25/07 (two weeks before she died) 4:14 PM, "futurecharmedgirl" wrote:

hi tripletsplusonemom- i'm a new reader of your blog; i've really been enjoying it. i have 2.5 y/o triplets (2 girls and a boy) and i'm about to have another baby girl any day now. i've struggled with guilt since i found out i was pregnant (a HUGE surprise after years of IF)........i had so much guilt around the circumstances of the trips birth--- c-sect, nicu, pumping instead of breastfeeding, trying to care for three at once--- basically that they were robbed of the newborn experience a singleton would have had. i've been trying to convince myself that what they are gaining in the relationship with their siblings is the gift i gave them, but i can't shake it.
how the hell do you handle it? your beautiful post about having one after three....it was great. does the guilt go away; is it healing to have one after three? i want to enjoy this as much as possible but i don't see how i'll be able to without feeling horrible for my 3 little babies i couldn't give it all to.
thanks so much-- futurecharmedgirl

"triplets plus one mom" wrote:

Hi FutureCharmedgirl - This is such a great question – once I get some more time – I’ll be writing about it. There is definitely guilt, but I didn’t know that was what the nagging feeling I had until very recently. I felt so remorseful that I couldn’t have had three separate pregnancies, three separate newborn experiences, three separate toddler experiences. I wasn’t feeling remorse just for our children – but for me, too. I feel like we were all robbed of the “bonding” experience that comes with a singleton. But then again – I wouldn’t trade my experience as a mother to triplets for the world. Our children have an amazing bond and they are so much more socially advanced than other singleton children their age. Plus, they will grow up always having one another. How awesome is that??I will say that having [plusone] has been an incredibly healing experience. I feel like THIS is the motherhood experience I have wanted for as long as I’ve wanted children. (And then, again, there is guilt for feeling that way – as if our triplets don’t count??) Like I mentioned in my post the other day, I love being able to scoop him up and run out to the store with one baby, I love carrying him everywhere I go, nursing him on demand – and sitting and rocking him – for hours, without having to feel like I am depriving two other babies.
The thing is – baby P@ige will be an amazing gift to both you AND your triplets. I’m not sure how it is that we were finally able to get pregnant after almost 10 years of NOT being successful ... But I do think that without our triplets, we never would have had [plusone] – and vice versa. They were ALL meant to be and we are beyond lucky to have them. And, they are all lucky to have one another. So, that’s how I do it - just believing that everything, as it is, is meant to be. Like I said, I’m a miracle believing kind of person!! Enjoy baby P@ige – you are in for an absolutely wonderful experience!!!
Congrats!! Tripletsplusonemom


don't get me wrong...i am, in no way, focusing on the "meant to be" or "miracles" shit in the response. i almost had to laugh at that, actually.

i thought about this exchange this morning; i totally forgot about it until now. i was thinking about the reasons i would want another baby and i remembered this...and i also remembered that i was so, so stupidly tangled up in the guilt mess that i had no appreciation for what i actually HAD at the time.

it's not easy to explain (to yourself) why you need another child when you already have three. but it feels like one. after you lost your fourth. but it feels like your second.

i just want to get what i should have right now. i don't want to be cheated even more than i was the first time. and second time. there's just so many times now.

alone

i couldn't fall asleep last night. i kept feeling the ghost belly; kept remembering feeling her and the hugeness of it and sweatiness. i kept thinking about how i couldn't wait for it to be over, and just wishing i could appreciate her inside, alive. i thought about how she probably died overnight. was it because i kept waking up on my back?

all i could do was lie there and, "breathing in, i miss my baby. breathing out, i grieve her now."

"breathing in, i miss my baby. breathing out, i grieve her now."
"breathing in, i miss my baby. breathing out, i grieve her now."
"breathing in, i miss my baby. breathing out, i grieve her now."
"breathing in, i miss my baby. breathing out, i grieve her now."
"breathing in, i miss my baby. breathing out, i grieve her now."
"breathing in, i miss my baby. breathing out, i grieve her now."

and then i fell asleep.

i had a dream where i was naked in a public shower. i was standing in the space between the rows of showers, in front of a long mirror. there was warm water. p@ige was on the floor, just born. she was not really alive, not really dead. i scooped her up; she was so heavy in the dream (like she really was). i sat for a minute shaking her, thinking she might live, but she started to get the same pattern of purpleness she had, and i knew the outcome would be the same. i sat there in front of the mirror with her, looking at her in my arms, not sad, but just looking; like i wished i would have done. i put her up on my shoulder and ran my hand across her back and her whole body. someone came by and said, "ooh, let me see her!" and i shouted, "NO!" and quitely went back to my baby.

sometimes people ask me what's the matter.
sometimes i say, after the initial confusion in my brain, "um, my baby died. remember?"

the present

i am finally starting to calm down.

i think i've decided to forgo the iud. you're surprised, right? until june, i think i will just try to stay relaxed (can that really be a goal for anything other than this moment??) by pretending i'm not trying to get pregnant. i think by june, husband and i can start to talk about whether we want to go back to the RE. i don't know what we'll want to do by then, but i will probably be closer to either wanting to go to the RE or to get an IUD.

speaking of husband, he just took his promotional exam on saturday. he's been studying for six months, and i've been leaving him alone. i didn't talk about how sucky and miserable i was at the end of the pregnancy, and i haven't really let him have any of this post-dead baby shit either. on saturday i felt a strong urge to open the floodgates of hell, but shut it back off after a trickle came out. it's really not fair to him; i need to give him some time to get reacquainted with real life. he's said over the months that he's put his dead baby stuff on hold, and i need to allow him to come into it slowly.

i've also decided to put off the official "another baby" conversation. he knows i want to, and for now, that's probably enough. i am trying not to ruin it by pushing it too soon. and you know what? i'm kinda out of my mind anyway. four weeks ago i was desperately trying to find someone to give me an iud. my urge to "plan" and "know" is strong, but i must resist. FOR FUCKS SAKE...we already know that planning is only a bastardized hope.

my original thought was that it took nine months to grow a baby (who died) and now, by june, it will be nine months that i would have tried to grow (the beginning of) who i am now. although i know it's theoretically possible to get pregnant within that time, i think it's too soon to fall back into that insane mind-trip of infertility and officially trying on our own. all that brings is more insanity when i should be trying to nurse myself back to life and health. this past month has been hell.

i still don't even trust myself enough to believe another baby is really what i want. i thought i was so sure about the iud, and now look. i need to just take each day and get back to basics, back to getting to know what's going on with me. living the future is going to help about as much as living in the past does- not very much.

just me, just for today.

IF/then

i think i'm starting to figure out what the fuck's been wrong with me recently.

it all started at a time when there were "obvious" reasons: being present for soulmate baby's birth, xmas, my sister finding out about her pregnancy (who is still fine at the moment), getting my first period since september and not being able to get the iud, new year's eve.

i have lost all cares. i suddenly stopped working out, stopped caring what i eat, stopped caring to try to have a good time, stopped caring that i'm the fattest ever. the only thing i've cared about was thinking about being pregnant again. kinda ironic that thinking about getting pregnant would lead to such bad personal care...but whatever.

i've read many posts from other deadbabymoms about getting their first periods after. they were at a totally different point; still within the post-partum period, their pain was still fleshy. getting my first period after four months, i don't know. it's unnerving to think that may be the impetus for all of this craziness, all this numbness; and seriously, it's been the worst yet.

i remember others saying it was a fucked-up reminder that they weren't pregnant anymore, yet still didn't have a baby. it was like a slap in the face. i think i've been feeling that since i hadn't gotten my period that i was still in the post-partum period, and now, i'm just not anymore. is it possible that it's really at the root of all this madness?

since getting my period the day after xmas, (HA! an exact month ago, i just realized), and not being able to get the iud (my out), i've been secretly obsessing about getting pregnant. not really secret to any of you, but a secret IRL. i even saw the "fertile cervical mucus" that i've rarely seen in my horribly infertile past...and i went off the deep end. i've been unable to sleep, thinking about the possibility of being able to get pregnant again. this will all end very soon, not with two lines, but with blood; BUT also with some understanding of what the hell is wrong with me.

i am scared shitless of putting myself back into the mental insanity of infertility. especially now, when i know it's possible. especially now, when there's so much more to it. if IF, then what? the RE? i don't think i can go there again. but can i really go on month after month with the IF hell i know from the past? can i just "see what happens" without going completely and utterly MAD?

i feel like my period will be here again soon, which in itself is a miracle. one month on the dot? and there goes my brain..."maybe the pregnancy reset my innards." HOPE, you goddamn motherfucker.

that's the problem. i'm scared shitless of thinking it may happen and actually WANTING it to at the same time. i'm fucked.

ghost baby

the four month kick-in-the-ass has settled in.

the other night, a very good friend asked me if this was the beginning of ghost baby. at first, i was upset at that term, because, i don't know...there's something DEAD has that GHOST simply doesn't; the wow factor? but this isn't american idol for fucks sake.

i'm starting to think she was on to something, though. that physical pain, those earthy, crude, base emotions...it was a physical torment that i had at least a little success dealing with mentally. i thought i made decisions, like i didn't want another baby, like i wanted to lose weight and get back to my old self. i was angry and sad and ruined and heavy, and mentally had a path on which to put one foot in front of the other. dead baby had an energy to it.

but now...now, i feel fucked, yet not as heavily so. mentally there is no beginning or end. it is like a haunting; like a ghost. there's no energy in this at all. i just simply don't care. i am like a big, old, haunted house that just stands there for generations...you can see it can be beautiful, but no one renovates it, nor tears it down. it's just THERE.

there are still tears with ghost baby, but those are different too. they are full of confusion, full of nothingness. i have tears for my current emptiness. my dead baby is now a ghost.

well excuse her for living

soulmate friend is experiencing the worst post-partum depression she's ever had.

she planned not to breastfeed to avoid PPD; so she could resume her medication right after the birth. she had breastfed her other two but it was not in her best interest, really, and so, not very good for the kids either. with her past experience, she tried to take every precaution.

except, her soulmate friend's baby died, then she had a live one.

she told me yesterday that she figured out why it's so bad this time around. she told me she resents the baby; when she looks at her she thinks, "who are you to be alive when charmedgirl's baby is dead?" she is angry and she's taking it out on the baby who lived. HER BABY.

i don't know how to feel about it. i feel terrible that she's going through that, and that the baby is on the other end of it. i feel...i don't know...that someone IRL is grieving with me? it's fucked up all around. really, really fucked up.


*************

on another note, as i did blurt out in a drunken, sobbing stupor that i wanted another baby, we weren't able to have a real conversation about it, so, not much to report. but at least i don't have to try to come up with lies about why i'm not getting the iud at the next show of blood...

puffed up

it's the kids' birthday this week. three kids, one birthday. it always makes me remember what i freak i am. this year, though, it's so much more than that. i was supposed to be normal this year.

i should also appreciate what i have, considering what others may not have. i feel like i say this like a broken record (how long before no one remembers what a broken record means? hehe), but triplets made me a known freak forever. it's like a giant INFERTILE flashing neon sign.

but i should be proud, shouldn't i? three beautiful and (hey, who knew!) ALIVE kids.

i knew yesterday was going to be fucked up; it was their party. besides the social anxiety i am struggling with at the moment, it was just the whole thing. the whole idea of celebrating a BIRTHDAY. yet, we have to, no?

i took a trip to the market in the morning, and had a nice breakdown. god above, why doesn't anyone talk about the dangers of driving while crying? i shamefully admit i've driven while intoxicated, and found it so much easier. i kept imagining a cop pulling me over, seeing my face, and just waving me on.

so my face was already a mess and the party hadn't even started yet.

i escaped mainly by not cooking until people started to show up. i find it relaxing to cook, especially when it makes such a polite excuse not to interact. and drink. alot.

i made it through the day, and was left with a very good and honest and cheeky friend. she sat with me and tried to understand what i was going through. it was the first time i had to try to talk about it to a non-deadbabymom. i mean, she really wanted to know, wanted to talk about it. she even asked, "did it go from deadbaby to ghostbaby?" when trying to figure out what the hell i meant by, "it went from really bad to better to royally fucked forever." the idea of ghostbaby is making me think, which is good, but i ultimately just changed the subject.

by the time husband and i found ourselves alone, we were both hammered. we tried to watch a tv show, but kept pausing it to talk about the day. i completely forgot it was his first time seeing soulmate baby. he's been studying for a big exam (which thank god will be over next weekend) and has admitted he's pushing out dead baby. but some came through last night.

so we cried, and cried and cried, and sobbed, and tried to talk but mostly couldn't; the proud parents of three alive, beautiful kids. at the end of the day, though, we couldn't escape the fourth.

our faces this morning tell all, even though we won't...even though i finally admitted to him that i want another baby.

hope?

i've always had a problem with illusive concepts that lull a person into a dangerous kind of passivity. ideas that keep one from confronting issues and feelings that can destroy their lives and relationships.

for example, i've always had a problem with the concept of trust. if you ask someone what makes a good relationship, they will no-doubtedly pull the trust card (usually not knowing what the fuck they even mean by it, like "good communication"). i've always said bullshit to trust. isn't trust just a lazy way of saying, "i don't really want to put the energy into this whole thing, so just make sure you always do what i would want you to do, ok? i'm also pretty damn selfish, so don't go trying to sneak anything in just for yourself. got it, big boy (or little girl)? if something feels uncomfortable to me, i trust you will put my wants and needs before your own."

i've found people who don't (or can't) trust themselves to have the hardest time with the whole trust thing. isn't easier to just put all the responsibility for your own happiness onto someone else? isn't it better to have someone else to blame? don't get me wrong, i also feel that mistrust is just as dangerous. how many missed opportunities for growth have been passed by because of a blind mistrust?

basically i think it comes down to a lack of constant evaluation and revision in our lives. with new information and knowledge comes the responsibility to (re)evaluate your situation, and revise your beliefs and practices and alliances accordingly. trust or mistrust in (whatever) is the lazy person's downfall.

since my baby died, i've found i have a similar problem with the concept of hope. what is this hope, but a way to live in the future? a way to try to blind one's self to the present moment, one's present anguish and pain? i will admit, it's quite tempting...but something i just can't accept. the same way living in the past with its what ifs and what could have beens can bury you alive, so will living in the future.

hope can do nothing for me in this moment except distract me from my work, from my grief, from real growth. hope is a wolf in sheep's clothing; worse, in fact. hope is a siren's song.

for this moment, i feel just about as fucked up as ever. i am ruined. that is my truth, and facing it without the bullshit of hope is the only thing that can help. without the truth of this moment, while breathing in and out, we die.

1-7

domestic diva tagged me days ago...don't expect anything as cool as meg's list, but here we go:

1. i love chocolate ice cream with potato chips. it reminds me of a frosty with french fries. i also love vanilla ice cream with crushed red pepper. "hello, my name is charmedgirl. i am a compulsive overeater. i think i killed my baby because of it." god that one turned out alot more morbid than i intended...

2. i'm obsessed with ebay. somehow, when i win something...those last few moments, palms all clammy...i can forget everything else. then my cheap ass has to log onto paypal, and i feel shittier than before. BUT...when that package with my vintage antique huge ornate jewelry comes in the mail...sometimes it's all worth it. sometimes it's a little anti-climactic, but whatever. when i open that find, that piece, and it was only $9.45 or something like that, it's fabulous.

3. i love trying illicit drugs. i drank for the first time at a pretty normal age (16), but i didn't try the mary-jane until about 21. the mj, for me, not so fun. it's funny for a bit, then i eat like a stuffed hog before going into a coma. c0ke, not so fun. feels like a bad diet pill. ec$tacy, yeah. now that's what i'm talking about. they even use it for therapy, so hard-asses like me can open up despite crushing fear of vulnerability. i was about to try mushr00ms but, you know, i got pregnant unexpectedly. at this point, i'm terrified to try anything new. the last thing i need is to hallucinate about dead babies.

4. ok so far my list is all about vices...shit, why not throw one in about $ex? i love vibrat0rs. i've bought one for every woman close to me (like sisters); i even bought one for my mother-in-law one mother's day (i think she was hinting for it, so i'm not THAT much of a freak). back when i worked in a cubicle, i would sometimes have outings with co-workers to the local adult shop where i would show them what stuff to buy (their husbands probably thought they were cheating). nowadays, i've tried to use the mood-rising effects of 0rgasm to my benefit since p@ige died...at one point i tried to do it every day, and i think it may have been working...but it's not always easy to keep up something like that.

5. i've never been dumped. i've broken up with boyfriends without wanting to, as soon as i felt it coming. fuck that.

6. i have a thing about being shorter than those i'm out with. i wear alot of heels, since soulmate friend and my sisters are 5'8-5'10. i'm 5'5 and i hate looking UP. husband is barely 5'7 and i love it.

7. i don't believe in right and wrong. i don't believe in universal truth. i don't believe in 'god in heaven' so when i say that, it's more like a curse-word. i wish i could believe i would see my baby alive, and that she's with all of my new sister-friends' babies, but i just can't. i secretly wish i did.

now, don't all of you unsubscribe at once, ok?

on babies, fun, and being mother-fucked

ahhh, what a wealth of choices...what should come first? something tells me these thoughts are more circular than linear, so it probably doesn't matter much. let's begin with mother-fucked.

when the three were born, i chose a photo and had announcements made. on the center panel, i had a quote, "the decision to have a child is the decision to have your heart go walking outside your body." can i just say that i had absolutely positively NO FUCKING IDEA what that really meant? my god, i have never, in my adult life, gone through such feelings of inadequacy, regret, and guilt. they say it's from becoming a mother, but 'they' were also just talking about the normal, alive baby stuff. i can say that for me, i really am just beginning to understand that quote; not after the alive babies (which did come with some of it), but after the dead one.

all the attachment crap i thought i worked into a nicely-wrapped package of deserting father and spoiled, neglectful mother went to shit when i became a mother. but i've only really fallen apart after my baby died...i really thought i was a happy, confident, fun person. WHAT AM I? am i really just a person who is waking up from the fantasy of what i thought my life was, what i was? did i take the red pill, or whatever the fuck color?? was that the goddamn matrix? does this happen to everyone who becomes a mother of alive/dead kids, or just the ones who are already fucked but don't know it yet because their coping skills are just that good?

ok, now onto the fun. right before i got pregnant with p@ige, i finally thought i was getting back into the swing of things. i started losing the baby weight, started having some *fun*. it was, oh, four weeks before i found out i was pregnant? i thought i had moved on from my reproductive nightmare; we decided no more kids (i know, i've said that 33 million times already).

and what was i looking for, to try to feel normal again?? FUN! yes, fun...you know, getting dressed up, having cocktails with your friends, shaking your ass a little...it sounds so shallow, but i really do enjoy my friends and conversation and dancing. i think about it more like it's a part of human nature, to want to get to some higher plane of existence through mind-altering substances, music, and discussion...with your best party goods on. kinda like church, but for a quasi-pagan chick. you know?

ok so here i am, dead baby in tow (always), trying to have fun. what the FUCK? it's almost like i am trying to convince myself that if i can just find my fun again, i don't have to think about trying to get pregnant. because, you know, fun and pregnancy certainly don't go together. it's either one or the other, folks.

i try to have fun. i go to soulmate friend's place, we try. we really do. the dead baby mom and the post-partum depression mom. two mother-fucked girls trying to find the fun. it's just so fucking goddamn PATHETIC. what ends up happening is, i get home and feel more in a funk than ever. i don't want to read or write or be anything at all. i can't find my fun and i can't find myself.

what's left to find but another two lines? i couldn't get the iud when i tried, and now two-line-chasing is still an option. how was i so sure i wanted to get the iud and be so sure now that i don't? i don't trust a single thing that goes through my head. i want to try to get pregnant...not that i even know what that means (certainly not the infertility doc). i try to imagine lies i would tell husband in order to avoid the iud when my next period comes. i fantasize about getting pregnant and not telling anyone for like, six months (not because i'm afraid of losing the baby, just beacuse i want it all to myself).

then i think about all the reasons i was so sure i didn't want another baby. will i get my period again and be miserable because i'm not pregnant, and not want to get the iud? will i get my period and run screaming to the doctor who will put it in? will i not get my period because i'm pregnant and regret it????

i want a baby because i can't find my fun anyway and maybe, just maybe, i can work out my mother-fuckedness enough to make having another baby really be a good idea?

what the fuck.
and why does cursing always make me feel a little better???

edited to add: my sister is doing fine. just a false alarm (so far)! these days, though, i'm not as encouraging as i used to be. she's probably relieved that i'm not. sometimes it's easier to deal with fucked up shit when someone just says, "jesus. that really IS fucked up!" and then leaves it at that.

blood

my sister called yesterday and told me she had a spot of blood. she pushed the paper in a little and there it was.

last time that happened, i was about 7 months pregnant and encouraged her to think positively until she got an ultrasound. she miscarried at 8 weeks.

when she got pregnant this time, i assured her that the mother-fucked timing of her due date (p@ige's one-year anniversary) would most certainly mean a safe arrival; isn't that how it usually works??

this time, i could hardly say anything at all except i'm sorry. i thought she would be someone who has that one "common" early miscarriage and then goes on without a problem. maybe she is, and she pushed that paper in a little too hard. maybe she isn't.

her pregnancy has been hard on me, as short as it's been so far. it really made me secretly want to get pregnant again. i think i still do. i'm a little jealous of her fertility; envious that she can get pregnant so easily. but i'm also looking forward to her baby...maybe even thinking that her baby can distract me from wanting my own. and i'm not beating myself up about the envy, it just is what it is, you know?

if she has a miscarriage, she's going to seriously lose it. she is a very, very sensitive girl. i don't even want to think about her traveling the road of miscarriage after miscarriage. when i was going through my infertile years, i was so very grateful that i just wasn't getting pregnant at all. i read many blogs of women who had miscarriages and really felt for them; the hope, the chance, that then was ripped away, time after time. i felt lucky in that respect.

please, please, please stay, little tiny thing. i can't take any more of this.
please, no more baby death.

personal jesus

p@ige was going to fix everything.

she was my miracle (well, my coincidental) baby. her conception made me one of "them"; a reproductively normal girl. i peed, i got two lines, just like that. even my response was normal..."what the fuck? i wasn't planning on this! this is terrrrrrible! the universe is screwing me yet again!" we had already decided that we wouldn't have any more children, and it took a while to override my previous plans.

but once i did override my old mindset, that baby was my ticket to getting the normal pregnancy, labor and delivery, the normal breastfeeding. i was going to have the experience of attachment with a single baby.

the pregnancy was normal...it sucked ass. you are reading this, so the rest went straight to hell. but you already know all that.

i guess in retrospect, that was alot of responsibility to heave onto a little baby. i am starting to realize that she was not going to fix things. maybe the reason i never felt attachment towards the kids i have isn't because i was handicapped during the pregnancy, isn't because of the c-section, isn't because they were in the NICU for three weeks, isn't because i was hooked up to a breastpump like a cow for a year, isn't because there were three of them and it was hell.

in retrospect, maybe p@ige would have been born alive and i'd have the same attachment issues with her as i do with the others. maybe another baby isn't going to solve those problems for me, either.

but she died. and she's forcing me to think about the fact that nothing can help me but my own blood, sweat, and tears. not for a fraction of a second do i believe that my baby is dead for a reason, but she is teaching me about myself. her being dead is forcing me to confront myself; forcing me to realize that no outside force would have or could help my emotional/spiritual self.

i don't feel attachment with my children because i was brought up by a mother who was more like a spoiled rotten, bossy older sister. i learned very early not to get emotionally attached, it can only lead to pain.

maybe the only baby left to be cared for is me, and in doing that, my babies who lived.

this is definitely not good; i must stop, or THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN TODAY

this is definitely one of the drawbacks of having living children before a dead one. now, i may as well just say upfront that i feel like an asshole even pointing that out, knowing others who lost their first baby will want to vomit. but this is the shit of it, the other side of the same hellish coin.

p@ige looked exactly like @eva. this is me with @eva at four months. this should have been me, today, with p@ige. my fingers are wobbling and i can barely hit the right keys.

i don't know what made me think of looking at their old pictures, to compare, to get a glimpse of what it would have looked like...but i fear i've just added a new level of hell; i won't be able to stop. five months, six, seven...what will stop me, even at a year? at sixteen years?

this isn't fair to @eva, either. i've already looked at her countless times in real life and pretended it was p@ige. this isn't right. but i can't stop. how can i stop this???????

four months and a year ago today

hey coggy, how didn't i remember that we were only one day apart?

four months ago today, at this time (7.38am), i too was standing in the shower. i wasn't screaming, and i was alone, but wanted to be. my sisters were here, my soon-to-be brother in law, my mother, my grandmother, the kids, my mother. i learned my baby was dead the night before, and everyone rushed up here...my sister's fiance left his own bachelor party.

in the shower...there was nothing, just water. tears and hot water and confusion. how could she be dead? just like that? i mean, that was it? just...over?

four months later, i can say it wasn't over. nine months of growing that baby; a lifetime of fucking confusion and agony. we women, we evolved like this...but wasn't the purpose to care for and protect LIVE babies?? this can never be over.

four months. i remember coming onto the scene in september, being two or three weeks in the shit. i remember reading blogs of those who were two, three months in and feeling that i couldn't wait to be where they were. i still want more time to just pass, but does it really matter? i can't say i'm as hopeful as i was then that time will take this away with it.


one year ago today, i peed on a stick. now, only an infertile will really know what i'm talking about here. i peed, two lines appeared in the shape of a +. that was it...no nasa-grade inspection devices, no evaporation lines, just a big fat +. after 3-4 years of infertility, ivf, and seven total years of unprotected sex, i was pregnant. just like that.

i am obsessed with pregnancy tests. are you in need of HPTs? go to saveontests.com. you can get ovulation pee sticks, pregnancy tests, and ovulation predictors for sooo cheap. and i mean like, 25 HPT or ovulation strips for ten bucks, a HUNDRED of them for $30. see? i barely even blinked before that whole thing just flew out of my fingers. i am an infertile down to my very cells.

BUT...but one year ago, i was just some normal chick who peed on a stick and found out i was pregnant.

this year, today, i'm an infertile mother to ivf multiples and a full-term dead baby.

this year, i hope i can find what else i am, buried under all that shit.

or whatever.

my beautiful scar, or the scar i chose

we've talked alot about how having a dead baby will leave a scar. it will maybe heal over time, a little, but will always be there. it's changed us forever and ever.

we didn't bury p@ige, and so, didn't get to pick out a gravestone for her. i didn't get to buy her that fancy present, something to represent her where she rests. she actually is parked inside a plastic bag inside a cardboard box inside the ugliest gray plastic shopping bag on top of my night table.

so...this is what i've done to myself. this is how i carry her around with me, how i remember her. this is how i've changed. i've always wanted to get something like this, but was afraid. i hate saying it like that, but come on. getting something this big on your arm is...for a girl...well, it's big. in thinking about it, i realized that i AM different, anyway, no matter what. why not be able to tell someone, "it's for my daughter who died," when they ask (sometimes with that upturned face)? so this is the scar i chose to wear on the outside, for all to see. it's much better-looking than the real one.

i thought about p@ige alot during the tattoo...with that buzzing, vibrating pain like a chant. it was like pain therapy; i thought about her and felt emotional and physical pain. i wanted to burn her into it, into the process and the image, even though i still can't believe i have a fucking tattoo instead of the baby i carried for nine months. praytell, what the fuck?

i am now into the planning process for not my next, but the tattoo after that. yes, it really IS addicting. this spring...i will do the other arm. i will officially be "one of those people". i laugh to myself sometimes about how surprised people will be when i finally unveil these secrets come warm weather...i imagine them whispering, "that's that girl with triplets whose baby died. she really must have snapped!" well, fuck them. fuck them and their normal reproductive lives.

in case anyone is wondering, the art is inspired by a piece by william morris, a late 1800s textile designer. the pear in the center was added to represent my children, P-aige, E-lle, A-eva, and R-eece. the M is for our last name.

it will never be enough, but there it is nonetheless.

p@ige

it takes some getting used to, saying the name of someone who never really lived.

i love her name. it makes me so miserably sad that, even if, by some fucking miracle, i got pregnant again AND it was a girl AND she lived (WTF???), we can't name her p@ige. i guess that's not very nice, seeing as i already have a daughter with that name, but come on. i DON'T.

i am not that comfortable using her name. i feels way more realistic to just say "the baby", or "my dead baby". i can't convince myself that she was a real person. her life was never realized. her name, although engraved on a bronze plate in the hospital, and printed on a cremation certificate, never fell upon her ears.

i use her name everyday, though. i used it in all the passwords (along with other very cryptic and mysterious password-y stuff) to my charmedgirl accounts.

i feel just a little bit consoled by the fact that my fingers are learning the pattern of her name. it was clumsy at first, but it feels natural now. not so much from my mouth, but for my fingers, it is natural.

p@ige.

giveaway bonanza not-so-extravaganza?

i never thought it would be so hard to give away jewelry!!!

unless it's all just completely ugly and people are just trying to be polite...could that possibly be it?

if you're just shy, GET YOUR ASS on comments and pick something! i don't care where you live, so no excuses (unless you really do think it's all shit).

so far, i've got:
meg- funky broken bracelet on the right end
m- garnet wrap bracelet
tash- still needs to choose
kalakly- tennis bracelet
heather- lariat necklace

please leave your choice on comments, and then email your address to: charmedgirl907 @ yahoo.com.

NOW...i totally have stuff to blog about, so get to it!

giveaway bonanza extravaganza!

when i was going through the hardest of the infertility, i got hooked on ebay. i don't think all of these things came from auctions, but most did. considering i've got a whole new crisis going on here, i'm making some room for...well, for more stuff.

including, of course, my new year's eve charm bracelet win! and can you imagine, i only realized there was an ACORN on that thing after coggy mentioned it?? my brain is so slow lately. i also noticed the next day that some asshole was sitting there (like i was on nye) trying to snake that thing? they placed a bid 8 seconds before i did, but my bid was higher. final bid count: 25.

HAAAAAAAAAAAA!!

it's pathetic how exciting this is right now.

ok, so on to the business at hand. coggy and niobe and others are giving away free stuff and i want to do it too. i love that i can think about this stuff as being just a little, maybe, exciting for another dead baby mom to get in her mailbox and even wear.

my photography sucks ass, so i hope you can see that from left to right there is:
a choker of black/red iridescent beads
a natural garnet wire wrap-around bracelet
a lariat (tie) necklace with dark purple beads
a black bead choker with amber and yellow colored beads
a bracelet of rectangle pieces of amber
a rhinestone/cz baguette and round garnet tennis bracelet
(underneath) a carved bone stretch bracelet, looks like butterflies
a carved bone butterfly pendant beaded necklace
and last but not least, a funky bracelet with different colored stones
(this last one is broken but can be fixed easily...and is really nice)

so, first nine commenters, let me know which one you like!!
(am i an asshole to say if i've never heard of you and you have no blog, i will be suspicious? i hope not).

ps- IF, and this is a big if, meg is a chooser and likes that last bracelet, it can benefit from her metalsmithing skills...and was also shipped to me from italy...so if no one minds, she's got first dibs on that one!

a year ago today

i found out i was pregnant on january 9. not quite there yet, but i just realized moments ago that that is where it begins...the eight or so months of remembering "a year ago today" or "last spring/summer".

it's true, during the holidays i had moments of thinking, "last year i was doing such-and-such and didn't know i was pregnant yet." but somehow that's different. everything changed the day i peed on that stick.

i just want it to be over. i don't want to remember how happy i was on mother's day, or how miserable i was during the summer. i don't want to re-live through 242 "one year ago todays" how i fantasized about her birth. i don't want to remember how much i hated being pregnant, and now how much i hate that i hated it.

i just want the "year ago today" to be after her birth already.

i'd rather think about grieving her.

i'd rather think about being empty "one year ago today" than full of her.

i'm not looking forward to the next eight months.

fuck it

THERE! i did it.

how you like me now, 2008?

i have mixed feelings about this photo. this girl is awaiting her commencement ceremony from graduate school. she's also awaiting her first IVF cycle, which started a month later.

the anticiaption was fruitful.

she's gone. like, forever. the question now is, can i manage another version of that? can i somehow muster up the hopeful, the positive, with the utter shit?

can peace and madness co-exist?

we'll see, i guess. that's the best i can do.
for now.