Grandma Sini

Tonight was the one year anniversary of my Grandma Sini’s death. There are no words to describe how much I miss her. She was ninety-one when she passed, but I stil feel as though we were robbed of a good 10 years.


In February of last year, they found cancer in her lungs. In her later years she was not a smoker. In fact, I never knew she smoked at all. But she lived in a time where smoking was the norm. She and my grandfather owned bars, and of course, what else did people do back then besides drink and smoke. So not only was she inhaling her own, she was also receiving a massive amount of second hand smoke each day.

I have written a little bit about my grandma before, but I can’t seem to find the words to do her justice. She was the grandma that everyone dreams to have. She treated me and my sister as though we were the only two important people in the whole world. Nothing was off limits in her home. All the grandkids could sit at her desk and cut and staple and color and stamp. I would play in the sink all day washing her dishes over and over again. We would roll meatballs in the kitchen and throw them back and forth. She always kept a stash of gum in her purse because she knew we would ask for it. We called her Grandma Gum. She was my biggest fan, my biggest complimenter, and my friend. I always knew that whenever I was down I could call her up and she would surely cheer me up. She was loved by everyone. My friends would meet her and instantly want to trade grandmas. She just had a way to make everyone feel comfortable and loved. I could go on for pages and pages about all the reasons she was so important to me.

For her memorial, G made the most beautiful movie of my grandma with pictures of her throughout her life. He spent days and days on this project which meant so much to me. One of the songs he included was I Did It My Way by Frank Sinatra. It was a perfect and most fitting song to portray her life.

The reason I bring this up is that something very strange happened this evening. My family and I went to dinner to remember and honor her. We had gone to the Cheesecake Factory where the average wait time is sixty minutes. To distract Mae, we walked to the courtyard where every weekend they have live bands or DJ’s playing. We had never seen it before, but they had an old time big band playing. As we walked up my sister looked at me and told me to listen closely to the song. It took me a few seconds to figure it out. Can you guess what the song was? None other than I Did It My Way by Frank Sinatra. If that was not a sign that my grandma is still with us, then I don’t know what is.




My grandparents wedding day.





My grandma with my aunt





In Cuba




My grandma and me

Rewind

Often times when I am alone, driving in the car I start thinking about what in my past I would change. Don't get me wrong. I love my life. I am married to the only man I have ever loved and I have this amazing daughter who brightens my life every moment of every day.

But what if I knew what I know now AND I could go back and change some of my decisions?

For one, if I would have known that teaching at the elementary level wasn't for me, I could have actually earned my credential in math rather than multiple subject. It wouldn't have taken me so long to get a job.

Or I could go back and save every penny I ever made instead of spending every cent (and then some) on frivolous things. Then I could buy a house right out of college and I would be sitting pretty right now. I have a friend who actually did this. She bought a house (in California) on her own, no help from a man. Now she is a stay at home mom. She doesn't have to work because of those early decisions in life.

But as I drive in the car, these thoughts scare me. Because what if I really could go back in time? What if I went back too far and changed the course of too many things and it didn't lead me close to where I am today? What if these changes strayed me away from marrying G. I would have missed out on the 12 years of love I share with him. That would mean I would never have Mae. I would never get to experience the awesomeness of my daughter. There would be so many things different in my life. Yes, maybe my life would still be good. Maybe I would still be happy. But life as I know it now would be....different.

So although going back in time may sounds amazing, I am glad that I can't! I am glad that my life is just where it is.

This is what my head is filled with in the fifteen minutes I drive to work. Normal?

Maybe in five years I will look back and instead of wishing the miscarriages never happened. Maybe I will be at a place where I can be at peace with them. Maybe I will have another child who I would never have known if they didn't happen. Maybe instead of going back in time, I want to go forward. Is there another child in my future? If I knew the answer was yes, my fears would disappear.

Snapshots

Last night was a rough night. Not only did Mae wake up multiple times, I woke up at 3:30am. I woke up abruptly, as if I knew there was something I needed to remember. When I realized what it was, I instantly filled with sadness all over again. My mind keeps replaying snapshots of the past few days: the picture of the ultrasound minus a heartbeat, weeping in my doctors arms, calling my husband to tell him the news, waking from the procedure with an empty belly.....It is like a movie when someone's life flashes before their eyes. But I can't turn this movie off. It is my life.

Luckily I am back to work and I am distracted from my thoughts throughout the day. My students and my work keep me occupied. It's the evenings and the middle of the night when it is most difficult to cope.

I feel like I am barely there for Mae. I am just going through the motions of parenting right now. The weekend was spent with me mostly on the couch. Nothing fun planned for her. I felt like a terrible mom. I have to move on, if not for me, but for her. She deserves my full attention.

My losses are so fresh I know I should not be healed this quickly. My hormones are still raging which doesn't help with weepiness and depression. I know with time it will get easier. I hope! Does it get better? With the last miscarriage, I knew that I would be trying again soon so I had hope on my side. This time, I am scared to start trying right away. Plus, emotionally I feel like I need to give myself time to heal. The fear of another loss is too much to handle right now.

Thank You!!!

Tonight as I checked my e-mail I had not one, but twelve amazing letters of support, understanding, and compassion from people I have never met before. An outpouring of love I so very much needed…a virtual shoulder to lean my head on and cry my heart out. With each and every one I opened, tears flowed down my face. Not because I was reminded of what I am going through, but because I finally feel that I am not alone. There are people out there not afraid to confront me and acknowledge my loss.

Thank you ALL so much for all your kind words and the time it took to write to me. It has helped more than I can describe. And thank you so much Beth from I Should Be Folding Laundry for reading my blog and then sending so many wonderful people there to read it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I am off to cry a river, but feel much better knowing there are people out there praying for me.

Another Pregnancy Lost

Here I am, once again. Another pregnancy lost. In just four short months.

The first one occurred in May. I knew something was wrong because I started spotting at 5 weeks. Plus I had very few symptoms of pregnancy. They did an ultrasound and found a sac but said it may be too early to see a heartbeat. But when I went in three weeks later, there was still no heartbeat. No baby.

I was shocked. My first pregnancy was perfect. It was just like all the books described. I just thought that growing babies was easy and I had no doubt that it would happen again. So I was in complete shock with the first miscarriage.

I decided to take the pills to help me abort rather than the D and C. I thought it would fit better into my work schedule. BIG MISTAKE. It was painful and messy. It was most definitely not just a bad period. I Plus, it was a harsh reminder that I was losing a baby. I tried to stay strong in front of others but I was really a mess inside. I would hold friend’s babies and cry, thinking I would never have another child of my own. Of course everyone reassured me that I would hold my baby soon. And I believed them. I really did. I thought it was just a fluke. Lots of women have miscarriages and then go on to have a healthy child.

So I thought the next time I get pregnant, everything will be fine.

So I found myself pregnant again, just two months after my last loss. I know it is fast and I probably should have waited, but I didn’t. I am very impatient and wanted the baby to come at the perfect time. Two months before the end of the school year so I could stay home with the new baby for five whole months. It was going to be perfect! I could not have been happier and could not believe my luck.

Everything seemed to be going well. At four weeks the doctors did a blood test to check my hormone levels. Normal. At six weeks they did an ultrasound and there was a beautiful, strong heartbeat. I felt that we were safe. There was a heartbeat. Everything was going to be fine.

At eight weeks, I had another ultrasound. Heartbeat was still strong and size was perfect, but there was something on the screen that concerned my doctor. There were two black spots on the baby’s head. She said that it could be nothing. The baby is so small that it was hard to diagnose anything. She suggested some genetic testing. I went home that night and was freaked out. Thoughts went through my head of some terrible genetic disorder. I stressed, I cried, but we had house guests so I tried to put it out of my head, at least for the weekend.

That weekend I spotted twice. I was nervous but I had seen the heartbeat, so I was not really concerned about another miscarriage. But after the holiday weekend was over, I started to freak out again so I called the doctor on Tuesday and voiced my concerns. She scheduled me to come in the next day to see a different doctor.

The morning of my appointment, I started to realize that all my pregnancy symptoms had vanished. I didn’t even notice with all the people around me and the good times we were having. But I no longer felt fatigued, no more morning sickness, my breasts were not sore, and the bloating feeling had vanished.

At the appointment I told the doctor all of this. She decided to do a pelvic exam first to see if my cervix had opened. It was fine. Then she did an internal ultrasound. At first the screen was pointed towards me. I knew something was wrong. I did not see any cardiac movement as I had seen before. But the doctor turned the screen towards here, assuring me that she just needed to get a better look. She searched and searched at every angle. But there was nothing. The baby had died. There was no heartbeat. She called another doctor in to confirm, and…..no heartbeat. Another baby lost.

I was so strong I held back my tears in the ultrasound room. I got dressed and went into the consultation room to discuss the next step. D and C. I stayed strong. Teary-eyed, but no tears flowing. I was so proud of myself. I was dying inside, but I remained calm. That was until I saw MY doctor in the office. She must have came on her day off. She came up to me and I just lost it. She hugged me and told me how sorry she was. She even kissed me on the cheek. She is such an amazing doctor and I thank God that I found her.

The D and C went fine. I was even OK on that day. No crying. I was strong. It wasn’t until the next day when the depression, anger, frustration, and disappointment set in. I feel alone. I feel as though I will never have another baby. I know the next few months are going to be tough. I need time to heal. I have been through it before. But I dread it. It wasn’t easy. And this time around I feel as though people don’t know what to say so they just avoid. I know there is nothing to say that will make me feel better or different, but I feel alone. And no one is calling.

Water Baby in Training

We have a pool in our backyard. When we first moved in, my mom (and I) were terrified that something terrible would happen with Mae at this pool. Ever since the incident at my father-in-laws, I have been especially freaked out about watching her ever single moment we are near any large body of water. So my parents had a safety fence installed around our pool. It has given me peace of mind ever since it was put in. But with summer coming around the corner, I know we will be out at that pool daily. At some point, the door could be left open and Mae could sneak past us into the pool area.

So as of two weeks ago, she has been enrolled in private swim lessons. She goes twice a week for the next six weeks. The first lesson was a huge disaster. She cried.....screamed the WHOLE time. She clung on to the instructor for dear life the entire 15 minutes. At that point, I thought to myself, this is going to be a long month and a half. The second lesson did not go much better. Actually, I think the screaming got worse. This time I had to go and hide behind the corner so her sad, swollen eyes wouldn’t try to search for me on the sidelines.

When it was time for the third lesson, I brought along some reinforcement. Right before I handed her to the instructor, I told her I had a treat for her if she didn’t cry. And by golly it worked! She didn’t cry the whole time. In fact, she actually was laughing and waving to me. There was not one tear shed when she was plunged under water. There was actually huge grins when she emerged. The first thing she asked for when she got out of the water is, “Can I have my treat?” The little bugger has a great memory!

It has been 3 scream free lessons now. She seems to enjoy it and I think it is just about the best thing I have done for her. She is having fun, while learning some life saving skills. Of course, this amazing child of mine will NEVER be by that pool without both my eyes being on her!

No Mama, No!

So yesterday started off as horrible as I thought it would. I couldn’t sleep all night, dreading my return to work and my leaving Mae. I got her up a little early so we could have some cuddle time if in front of Noggin before work. As soon as we pulled in to her preschool, she started crying and saying, “no mama, no!” This is the first time she has ever cried when going to school. Usually she is excited to get there and sit like a grownup at the breakfast table with all the other toddlers. So today was AWEFUL! I cried all the way to work.

I worried about her all day, but when I went to pick her up the teachers said she did wonderfully and didn’t cry at all. Usually, though, she puts up a fight when it is time to go home. I have to follow her around the playground while she shows off all the cool things she gets to do there. But this time she hugged all her friends, said goodbye, and was out the door in two minutes.

I struggle every day with the guilt I have about going to work and not being home with Mae. My mom was able to stay home with me and I always imagined that I would be able to do the same. But financially, we would struggle tremendously. The first six months of Mae’s life I was able to stay home. It was definitely bitter sweet. I adored being with her, but I was guilt ridden over my husband’s job being the only income. I guess no matter what, the situation will never be perfect.