Part VI I'll Take You Back

The night before I go see the maternal fetal specialist I have my breaking point.  I am in the shower crying.  It's the kind of crying that pains you to even think about, because you don't know where it comes from.  I get out emotionally drained and I head to the closet.  It was my darkest moment yet, but it all changed in an instant.  I fall to my knees confessing to God and telling him how sorry I was for blaming him.  I handed it all over to him.  The guilt, the anger, the hate, everything.  I told God I could not do it anymore alone and I needed him to be in control.  I woke up the next morning with such a strange peace that I knew He was in control.  He was the whole time, I just had to let him be.  I went to the dr the next morning.  I showed him my paper work from RIA and he said he would follow their suggestions.  Before I left he asked me if he could pray with me.  I told him I asked God to lead me to the right hands and He had.  The dr held my hands and he prayed such a beautiful and caring prayer.  We were both crying.  I walk out of the room and the receptionist comes over asking if everything is okay.  I tell her it is now.

I'll take you back always


And even when your fight is over now

Even when your fight is over now

I'll take you back always

And even when the pain is coming through

Even when the pain is coming through

I'll take you back

Part V Falling Hard

Lots of anger was built up.  I still didn't understand why.  I started questioning was it because of what had happened the first time, because I still felt so much guilt from it.  Something so natural was not naturally happening.  I started researching everything I could.  I begged for so many test that my dr was running me off.  I was tested for Antiphospholipid syndrome (APS) after the second misscarriage and it came back a low positive.  It causes blood clots, so I would take baby aspirin the next time.  At least I have some sort of answers on the second miscarriage.  We get pregnant again and I start taking the magical little pill.  I still don't tell people about this pregnancy in fear of the what ifs.  I think everything is going good.  I am still holding a grudge with God, but begging him to let this not end badley.  I go to the dr weekly for test.  I'm taking progesterone just in case.  I think that surely we have had enough of the bad, so this time it would be okay.  The Saturday of my 8th week my life changed.  I was changing the sheets and something just didn't feel right.  I went to the restroom and I was spotting again. I called my nurse and she said to wait until Monday, that hopefully it wasn't anything.  I was screaming my pleas and sorries for thinking so badly of God.  I go in Monday morning they do a sonogram and I get sent straight to a Maternal-Fetal Dr.  They thought it eas ectopic and it was about to rupture.  I kept thinking This CANNOT be happening again.  When the dr came in and  did the internal sonogram I thought I  had become his science experiment.  Every dr in training, nurse, anyone he could find cme in to look at the screen.  He kept saying it was a ring of fire and he'd only seen ones like this in textbooks.  At that point I could have cared less what they did.  I really thought Tim would have to put me in a mental hospital, because I was losing it fast. Little did I know that this dr would save me.  I go home the next day.  A song was out called The Tin Man by Kenny Chesney, it seemed like it was on every time the radio was on. It's lyrics were exactly what I was feeling.

It's times like these
I wish I were the tin man
You could hurt me all you wanted
I'd never even know
Well..I'd give anything just to be the tin man
And I wouldn't have a heart and I wouldn't need a soul
Well I'd give anything just to be the tin man
And I wouldn't have a heart and I wouldn't miss you so

I go back to see my dr and he tells me he doesn't know what else to do that he wants me to go on lupron injections to start menopause and then start from there and that he was sending me to a fertility specialist.  There was a three months wait to get into the specialist, so I had a lot of time to feel sorry for myself.  I was mad about that and not easy to be around because of the injections.  In some of my countless hours on the internet I found two drs that had a practiced called RIA.  Everyhting they wrote about and there case studies fit me.  I contacted them and had an email and phone consultaion.  He prescribed what I needed to do to stay pregnant.  I was doubtful beacuse my regular ob wasn't comfortable with all this information I had now, so I called the maternal fetal dr figuring he owed me one since I became his case study unwillingly.  I got an appointment to see him.

Part IV Pregnant Again

A few months later we are pregnant again. My new dr is watching everything closely.  Everything is going good.  I think that everything is working like it should have the first time.  I am happy and dreaming of what our baby will look like, act like, look like!  I decide that we shouldn't tell anyone but family not wanting to have to untell them if anything were to happen.  Everything was going perfect I thought until the 3rd month.  I started spotting and called my nurse in the middle of the night.  She said it was normal and I was ending my first trimester, so I needed to calm down, but come see them in the morning.  I remember staying up all night pleading with God to save this baby.  I had a feeling though something was wrong.  It's strange what you will beg and plead for out of fear.  That morning I sat looking at all the soon to be moms and hating them all.  Hated that they were not scared and worried.  I get called back and they listen for the heartbeat.  We don't hear one.  He does a sonogram and the baby doesn't measure at 12 weeks.  The baby died at around 10 weeks.  The dr tried to say all the right things.  I just wanted to run away.  I kept saying he might be wrong, are you sure, can we come back tomorrow and recheck.  We schedule the D&C for the next day.  I walked out into the lobby hating all of the women in there even more.  That night I kept asking God what I did, why I deserved this, why Tim deserved this, why was He punishing us.  I was so mad at Him.  Test came back inconclusive of why I miscarried, but it started my mission.  I read everything I could get my hands on.  I cried all the time.  I despised parents that talked to their kids hateful.  Thinking why do they have kids and I don't.  I started talking with a lady I found on iVillage.  She told me she's had two miscarriages and her dr had prescribed baby aspirin and she had a healthy baby now.  I called my dr and he said it was worth a shot, but to slow down,  I needed time to grieve and as he said it the only thing I can think of  is grieve..I'm too mad to grieve.  I didn't know how much hate I could really have in me, but I did.  God was at the top of my list to hate.

Part III So Lost

The next morning I go to the hospital and I have a D&C , plus a laparoscopy done for the endometriosis.  I ended up staying until the next day because of the surgery and I think my new dr thought I couldn't handle it yet.  I had/have never felt so much guilt.  I started out questioning God and then I ended up hating myself because I wish I'd been more clear minded when everything started falling apart.  I wish I would have had someone there with me when my old dr said this is what we need to do.  I wanted so badly to be in a car wreck and wake up from a coma or deep sleep and all the pain maybe would be gone when I came to.  I never questioned God after that surgery again why it happened.  I knew why and I would have to find peace in it somehow. A few weeks later I  get a new student in my class that had to be a God sent messenger.  The boy was a mess.  In his 8 years of being on this Earth he had seen more and been through more than I hope I ever have to witness in another student.  He kept my mind preoccupied and I needed it.  I would wake up and go to sleep thinking about this boy and praying for him.  A few months later we find out we are pregnant again.

Part II That day

I was numb from everything.  I wanted to just stop feeling.  I finally get home after pleas from my mom to pull over and let her come get me.  I wanted to be alone.  I didn't know I could even feel that way,so I sure didn't want anyone to see me.  I came home fell on the couch and begged myself to fall asleep and wake from the nightmare.  It was cut short by a phone call.  Tim's mom called and said his dad was in the hospital with chest pains.  I asked if he was going to be okay and she said he should be.  I still wasn't thinking clearly, so I didn't even call Tim to tell him.  By the time Tim got home he was frantic about me and his dad was going in for open heart surgery.  He checked on me and then left for the hospital.  I can't even remember how many days his dad was at the hospital, but he was okay.  People would say they were sorry and I wondered if they were talking about my father-in-law or the baby.  I didn't go back to school the rest of the week.  I did not want to face people.  I had already picked names out, color schemes for the nursery, and I thought I already knew what my baby would look like.  And he was gone and I had to act like nothing ever happened, because no one else felt the way I felt about my baby.  People at my school were great.  They cooked many meals for me and my principal had been through a loss too and understood.  I went back the next Monday assuming God didn't intend for us to have that baby,  but everything else would be okay.  So, I thought.  Two weeks had gone by and I still had not passed anything.  I called my dr and they assured me I should have within 72 hours, so I needed to get back up there.  I go the next day and the nurse took me in her consulting room and said I think we made a mistake in your lab and your HCG level was 15000.  We were off on dates.  I don't even see the dr.  I get up and tell them I need my records and they won't give them to me.  I walked out and go numb again, because I know what I have done and what it cost me and my baby and I can't take it back.  I can't make it alright.  I call Tim.  He's furious and then I call my mom.  She is upset too.  I had been hearing about a wonderful dr and thought I'd call him for help.  I call and talk to the receptionist and she says he can see me once I am pregnant.  I ask to talk to the nurse and she says to be there by 8:00 the next morning.  We get there before the dr the next morning. I get called in his tiny little room and I break down.  The nurse holds my hand as he does an internal sonogram and his face falls and the nurse starts to tear up and my world falls apart.  The nurse leaves the room and calls the first dr.  They won't turn over the records.  She tells them she's headed over there to get them.  We see on the screen my baby but, the shot did what it was meant to do and my hell starts again.  The dr schedules a D&C for the next day.  That night I miscarry at home.  I was 4 months pregnant.

Part I God Blessed the Broken Road

Tim and I married young and we decided to have kids young too.  A year after being married I told him I was ready to have a baby.  I knew it was not going to be the easiest job, because I had endometriosis, but I figured the road we were going to go down would only have a few bumps.  We were headed in the wrong direction quickly.  I was at school one day and I told a good friend that I hadn't been feeling well.  She begged me to take a pregnancy test and I did and to my excitement I was pregnant.  Eight weeks by that point.  I went to my dr. and things were going as planned and we would listen for the heartbeat at the next appointment.  I was having to wait almost two months to go back.  Around 12 weeks I started having a sharp pain on one side.  Called the nurse ands she said it was normal as long as there was no spotting.  I waited until the 16th week to go to the dr.  He can't hear a heartbeat, but said I was probably wrong about the dates.  I told him I was really worried about the pain, so he does more blood work and he'll see me in a week.  I go back the next week by myself and my world crashes.  My HCG level is at a 1500 and he thinks the pregnancy is ectopic.  I needed Tim there so badly, but things were happening so fast I couldn't think straight enough to remember is cell number.  The dr left me in a consulting room to decide if I wanted a shot to end the pregnancy or go home at the risk of dying if it ruptured.  I was 22 and thinking I should not be making decisions like this.  Why is this happening to me and my baby.  Finally, the dr came back and said if I leave I had to sign this saying you were told what the possible outcomes were.  I was emotionally drained and said I get the shot.  The second I sat in my car it started raining.  I wanted to stand in it and wash away all the guilt I had at that moment for ending my baby's life.  I had a 30 minute drive home in rain that was so hard I could not see the end of my car hood.

D is for Dad

My dad is the best dad you could ask for.  He is a man of his word and taught Chris and I to value what we have.  I grew up thinking we did not have much, but I didn't not realize until I was in college that he gave us what we needed.  We were not spoiled by any means and I am glad for that know.  He is a wonderful grandpa to my kids.  He retired to help my mom watch my twins when they were 6 weeks old and he had hem singing their ABC's by the time they were 16 months old.  He doesn't miss anything that they do, but then again he never missed one of my events.  He would play volleyball with me for countless hours and not stop until I was satisfied with myself.   He had a heart attack a year ago, but I'll save that story for the H's.

C is for Christian and Chris

I grew up Catholic and when I was 32 my family joined a wonderful small Baptist church. Boy, did I think the roof might fall in when we stood up front to join, but it’s is one of the best choices we have made as a family. The church is wonderful and full of life. The kids are in a wonderful youth program and you don't hear..............Do we have to go? It’s can we pleaeeeeeese stay for Sunday School!

Chris is my older brother. He by far is the best brother anyone could ask for. He is the most patient and kind person I know. He would go the distant for ANYBODY. In saying that, he’s been stabbed a few times by people using him. He is an avid hunter and fisherman. He owns his owns business and does well  because of his Play Hard or go Home attitude. No, he doesn’t have a college degree, but has the most wordly sense I know. He’s dyslexic and you would never know because he taught himself to compensate. He would let me tag along when I was little and even when I was in college. He never let me be left out. I see a lot my own kids relationship in how Chris and I were growing up. He will shoot me for telling this story, but it is so funny that I still get that ouch my belly hurts from laughing so hard feeling when I think about it. We would get up before the crack of dawn to go hunting, fishing, or whatever else we could do and again he let me tag along. That morning he grabbed a pair of jeans from the dryer and out we headed. Chris, my Tim, me and Wade were going to the deer lease. Chris complained the whole time that his jeans must have shrunk, but who cared because we would be out in the middle of the boondocks. So, we do our thing at the deer lease and then head to the lake. Well, he decided once we got there he’d change into his swim trunks. When he takes them off you hear. Oh, Crap Jennifer these are your. Sure enough my FAVORITE pair of jeans are on his skinny butt, stained with who know what. I don’t know if I was more mad that he ruined them or that he could fit into them. We laughed and laughed and laughed until it hurt. Love him lots even though I don’t ever say it to him!!!

B is for Brownfield and Bon Jovi

Brownfield, USA

I was never one of those that thought I'd leave my hometown.  I guess it's my safety blanket and the people are nice too!!!  I really thought growing up nobody was as lucky as us b-town people were.  My grandparents and cousins all lived  here and my friends were on my street or just a few blocks over.  We grew up playing every sport we could, we played kick the can until all hours of the night, and when we coud drive we had the drag.  Our Sonic was/is most definitely the best around.  The owners put up with us setting there until curfew and us going around it trying to impress anyone that we thought was looking our way!!!  So glad gas was around $1.00 and $10 bucks would last me all week. One thing about Brownfield looking at it now as an adult is that our people are really hear for each other.  When there is a crisis or tragedy or good news we are here for each other.  Only once did Tim and I think we would move and my Grandma had a heart attack and I knew I needed to stay home.  We are still here and our house is really a home.  All of my cousins and even my brother have left, but I'm  here for the long run. 

Bon Jovi.  I love, love, love Bon Jovi.  The first time I ever saw a picture of Bon Jovi  ( in 5th grade)I thought he was a girl.  My friend April had a picture of him with lip stickers around it and I could not figure out why she was in love with this girl with the most beautiful hair I ever had ever seen. She played Shot through the Heart and I was hooked.  I tried to get Never Say Good Bye for the Senior Song when I graduated fro HS.  I guess was too inappropriate, but worth a try.   I even bought Allison a Bon Jovi t-shirt today!  She was not as excited as I was.  Kurt and Allison use to put on concerts to his music when they were little.  One day they were in the back of the suburban in my garage with the back open and the music blaring.  They had their guitars and they were in underwear only.  I ran in to grab my camera and came out the door missed the step and landed between the tire and bottom step.  Hurt and Stuck.  I was yelling for the kids to help me.  They were jamming out to Living on a Prayer and I knew the sheriff would think  it was odd if the kids called 911 and saw the scene.  So, I pulled myself together and got up before someone pulled up and finished listening to the kids jam session.

I like his new stuff too. I surprisingly can even get Tim to listen to him.  

What Makes You!

An article caught my eye about soup. What’s in your bowel and how does it describe you? I thought about this and really wanted to say potato soup, but didn’t know how that would describe me, so I went with ABC soup. The chicken noodle kind that I would try to spell out my name with when my mom made it for me. Thought each letter represented a me in some way. Here goes……..


A
Allison….my sweet Allison. I never thought I would be a mom to girls. I couldn't even imagine raising a daughter and boy did God laugh and say here’s your girl. She is ½ of the best thing that ever happened to me (her twin brother is the other ½) . She is so wise beyond her 8 years. She cares and loves deeply. She often talks to God like he is next to her and her heart breaks when others are weak. I wanted to name her Allison thinking we would call her Allie and by no way does she look like an Allie. She is an Allison through and through.  She is a tomboy, a cowgirl, sometimes a punky girl, she loves to sing, and play her guitar. She is the all American Girl in my eyes. Her name says it all….. The name Allison means 'noble exalted nature'. (a happy and gracious nature of a girl) Oh, my goodness I could go on and on, but my soup has more letters!

My Valentine

One of the things I want.  Looks so easy to make or you can head over to the Primitive Boutique to look around.

                                  http://www.etsy.com/people/MyPrimitiveBoutique?ref=pr_profile

Kurt has been coming up with every imaginable I love you to .......something in our galaxy saying he can think of.  This is way to cute not to have sitting on a shelf.