The back story: We started trying to get pregnant in May of 2008, several months after we got married. A few months later we started counting days and taking my temperature. After several months of nothing we found out that our hot tub wasn't helping the situation. So Jason was banned from the hot tub and after waiting a period of time we started again - counting the days and charting everything. Still no baby.
We tried ovulation prediction kits, and nothing. And then heartbroken, I didn't want to "try" anymore. Everyone told us we were stressed and to quit trying, so we did. Then we started making plans to move to Kentucky and I was suddenly glad I wasn't pregnant. But now, 8 months later, we still haven't moved.
So back in December Jason and I decided we were going to start trying again - using the scientific method again. We got the ovulation prediction kit and started counting days. I was so afraid to get my hopes up because the let down seems to get worse each time. I think that would be my biological clock mocking me. Even if I got pregnant immediately, I'd still be 38 when the baby was born. They call a pregnancy after you're 35 a "geriatric pregnancy." Not because I'm old but because my eggs are old. (Why do raisins come to mind???)
So last Saturday I was a day late and we decided to take a pregnancy test. I have a love/hate relationship with these little plastic sticks that we pee on. I sat it on the sink and waited. One line. Yes, this is what usually happens. I did some other things and a minute later looked back and... is that a 2nd line??? I waited but all that appeared was a very faint second line. Was it even there?
"Well, that's annoying." Jason hearing me say this came in and looked at the test. He saw the very faint 2nd line and asked if that meant I was pregnant and I told him I wasn't sure. So the google searching began. Our online searching basically told us that we had bought a cheap test that wasn't good at detecting hCG, the pregnancy hormone. (Don't buy Answer Pregnancy Tests, even if it says it's an "early" pregnancy test - it's not.) The final answer was "probably, but you should take the test again to be sure."
We were afraid to get our hopes up; we both needed big red flashing signs and a "probably" wasn't going to do it for us. So Sunday morning I took another test and got the same faint line, but this one was definitely darker. That was enough for us - it was a positive test!
So I called the doctor on Monday and talked to a nurse and explained the situation. We made an appointment for March to come in for the first ultrasound. I was feeling some nausea and was definitely tired. I started limiting my caffeine and avoiding Advil... and my electric blanket. :(
Then the trouble started. Around noon yesterday I started bleeding. (If you're even in the bathroom and hear a woman say "crap" out loud it's never a good thing.) We were worried but then turned again to google searches. 20-30% of women experience bleeding and will still have a healthy baby. Just to be on the safe side, I called the doctor again. I went in this morning to get some blood work to find out the hormone levels and get a good idea what was going on.
This afternoon I got the news. My hormone levels were really low - I was no longer pregnant. I talked to the nurse about the faint line pregnancy tests and everything else and her assumption was that it wasn't a viable pregnancy. That I probably started losing it as soon as I was pregnant. (In our internet searching on pregnancy tests this was never mentioned, but some of our friends have experienced this - questionable results followed by miscarriage.)
We're both disappointed but there's a silver lining - we CAN get pregnant! I have friends who have gone through this and have spent thousands of dollars trying to get pregnant. We've spent $30 so far (this year). There is sadness, but there is hope. This wasn't our only chance and I feel very strongly that we'll have good news again soon.
Thank you to all our friends who have been praying for us. Please continue to pray for us when God puts us on your heart. I believe all your prayers today made a huge difference. There was really no way to save the pregnancy, but we felt God's comfort and peace the whole time. Instead of discouraged we are encouraged. We've gotten so many words of support and encouragement, we're just overwhelmed by your love and understanding. Thank you again.
I think I'm going to go have a Diet Coke and take some Advil (I've got a pain that won't be ignored) and I'm definitely turning on my electric blanket tonight. And I can go back to running... anyone want to join me tomorrow night?
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Our fuzzy babies
First, meet Kinzie...
This is my precious baby who will be 14 this Spring. I got her about 13 years ago, right after Christmas. I went to a pet store to get a kitten and started thinking I should get an older cat from the Humane Society. One of the girls working there told me that someone was at the register trying to give her cat back to them but she was too old. I immediately fell in love with the fluffy little kitty that was about 6-8 months old. The girl who gave her up said that her boyfriend got her a kitten for Christmas and her mom wouldn't let her have both cats. So (unbelievably) she decided to give up the older cat, whom she called Precious. As precious as that little cat was I had to pick a name I could live with. I call her Kinzie, but she seems to prefer Kinzu. :)
Kinzie never did well with other cats and about 8 years ago I promised her that she would be an only cat from then on. (This may have been the only thing that kept me from having 10 cats by now.) Then in the summer of 2007 I started dating a wonderful man who had two little kittens. I knew that if things worked out with him Kinzie would have some adjusting to do. After Jason proposed I started reading about how to introduce young cats to an old kitty. We kept Jason's babies (who were about a year old at the time) upstairs and after several weeks finally let the cats all meet. Kinzie became the head cat and has kept the other two in line ever since. She's a bit on the grumpy side when they're around, but honestly I think she's happier with the company.
When Jason first got the two kittens he was told they were girls. I helped him with names - Lilly and Daisy. Several months later when Jason took them to the vet to get them fixed he texted me: need to find new names - they're both boys. So Lilly became Lenny and Daisy became Davey. (Our friend Becca remembers their names by their colors - lighter Lenny, darker Davey.)
Lenny tried to challenge Kinzie when they first met and she put him in his place every time. To this day he stays far away from her and he's jumpy when she's around. Occasionally he'll come up and sniff her but she usually tries to swipe at him and he jumps and runs away. He's whooped now, but she won't give him another chance to challenge her.
Davey is very different - he's a lover not a fighter. He tries to rub on Kinzie and she usually tries to bite him or smack him. He just lays down and takes it, usually purring the whole time. She might bite him but she usually ends up licking him a few times afterwards. She doesn't seem to mind having him around but she doesn't usually approach him.
Recently Davey has tried to snuggle up to Kinzie while she's sleeping. We put out a couple blankets for the kitties to sleep on and a box for Kinzie to sleep in. One day he climbed in the box with Kinzie. Jason and I waited for the abuse to start but she just glared at him and then went back to sleep. This happened a few more times until Davey got too brave and actually pushed Kinzie out of the box. I've gotten another box and placed it beside Kinzie's box so that Davey has room to sleep next to Kinzie. I have to share pictures of the two of them in the box together. :)
The boys are now almost 3 years old and they've calmed down a lot. They're not scratching as much as they used to (I keep their claws clipped). They usually don't jump up on the furniture anymore, resulting in a lot less broken items. Davey chews up my hair bands if he can find them - and he's been known to dig through my purse and work bag to find them. Lenny wakes me up too early every morning hoping for treats. But the boys are now my babies as much as Kinzie is and I just love them to pieces.
This is my precious baby who will be 14 this Spring. I got her about 13 years ago, right after Christmas. I went to a pet store to get a kitten and started thinking I should get an older cat from the Humane Society. One of the girls working there told me that someone was at the register trying to give her cat back to them but she was too old. I immediately fell in love with the fluffy little kitty that was about 6-8 months old. The girl who gave her up said that her boyfriend got her a kitten for Christmas and her mom wouldn't let her have both cats. So (unbelievably) she decided to give up the older cat, whom she called Precious. As precious as that little cat was I had to pick a name I could live with. I call her Kinzie, but she seems to prefer Kinzu. :)
Kinzie never did well with other cats and about 8 years ago I promised her that she would be an only cat from then on. (This may have been the only thing that kept me from having 10 cats by now.) Then in the summer of 2007 I started dating a wonderful man who had two little kittens. I knew that if things worked out with him Kinzie would have some adjusting to do. After Jason proposed I started reading about how to introduce young cats to an old kitty. We kept Jason's babies (who were about a year old at the time) upstairs and after several weeks finally let the cats all meet. Kinzie became the head cat and has kept the other two in line ever since. She's a bit on the grumpy side when they're around, but honestly I think she's happier with the company.
When Jason first got the two kittens he was told they were girls. I helped him with names - Lilly and Daisy. Several months later when Jason took them to the vet to get them fixed he texted me: need to find new names - they're both boys. So Lilly became Lenny and Daisy became Davey. (Our friend Becca remembers their names by their colors - lighter Lenny, darker Davey.)
Lenny tried to challenge Kinzie when they first met and she put him in his place every time. To this day he stays far away from her and he's jumpy when she's around. Occasionally he'll come up and sniff her but she usually tries to swipe at him and he jumps and runs away. He's whooped now, but she won't give him another chance to challenge her.
Davey is very different - he's a lover not a fighter. He tries to rub on Kinzie and she usually tries to bite him or smack him. He just lays down and takes it, usually purring the whole time. She might bite him but she usually ends up licking him a few times afterwards. She doesn't seem to mind having him around but she doesn't usually approach him.
Recently Davey has tried to snuggle up to Kinzie while she's sleeping. We put out a couple blankets for the kitties to sleep on and a box for Kinzie to sleep in. One day he climbed in the box with Kinzie. Jason and I waited for the abuse to start but she just glared at him and then went back to sleep. This happened a few more times until Davey got too brave and actually pushed Kinzie out of the box. I've gotten another box and placed it beside Kinzie's box so that Davey has room to sleep next to Kinzie. I have to share pictures of the two of them in the box together. :)
The boys are now almost 3 years old and they've calmed down a lot. They're not scratching as much as they used to (I keep their claws clipped). They usually don't jump up on the furniture anymore, resulting in a lot less broken items. Davey chews up my hair bands if he can find them - and he's been known to dig through my purse and work bag to find them. Lenny wakes me up too early every morning hoping for treats. But the boys are now my babies as much as Kinzie is and I just love them to pieces.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Like Mother Like Daughter
Here was me about 2 1/2 weeks ago at the Vineyard's Christmas party for our community:
Here's my mom when she volunteers in Florida:
You all knew I had it in me to be silly, goofy, clownish (is that a word?). But did you know where that came from? Now you do.
(Pickles and Sweet Patootie - my mom)
I looked at that a couple of times and realized that looked a lot like this...
Still trying to decide on the fabric and colors, but that will probably be decided by what we can find. I'm thinking some bright polka-dots on white for the dress and bright pink for the pinafore. Still trying to decide if the pantaloons should be white or the same color as the pinafore. (What do you think?) Also, my mom pointed out that both patterns are sadly lacking pockets, so we'll definitely have to add those.
Here's my mom when she volunteers in Florida:
You all knew I had it in me to be silly, goofy, clownish (is that a word?). But did you know where that came from? Now you do.
(Pickles and Sweet Patootie - my mom)I've done some face painting in the past but it's such an artistic thing and I need a lot more practice to be confident. So then I tried balloon sculpting (it's so much more than animals) and I loved it! I used to be really jumpy when it came to balloons, but one class and I'm over that. (Thanks Chuck. LOL)
We have more opportunities at church to do clowning, so I decided I need to get a real clown costume and a clown name. So of course I asked my mom for help with both of these. She made her entire costume herself, without a pattern. It's a great costume, but it took her 3 months and much frustration to get it just right. I think it's perfect for her. And her clown name? Sweet Patootie. (Just a side note - she has a page in a clown coloring book!)
Jason and I are flying to Florida next week to spend some after-Christmas time with my mom and step-dad. We'll be there five full days and Mom and I think we can get quite a bit done on a clown costume for me. The hardest part - deciding on what kind of costume I wanted to go with.
I searched several clown costume websites: Costumes by Betty, Mooseburger, and various other google searches. I discovered that there are many different types of clowns. Though I love the Pierrott clown look (see types of clowns link), I decided the best for me was the Auguste clown. (Pierrott - elegant, artful, skillful; Auguste - bumbling, stumbling, slapstick.)
I wanted to go with the dress style of outfit instead of a pantsuit/jumpsuit style. I definitely do not want a belt around the middle (ugh) so the best type would be the rag doll or baby doll look. Here's the style I decided I liked the best:
I looked at that a couple of times and realized that looked a lot like this...
Seriously? I picked exactly the same costume as my mom? Yes. Yes I did. So I emailed my mom and asked if she could do another costume just like hers for me. Her answer in short was "oh goodness no" and explained that it would be a lot faster and easier if we worked from a pattern. She did say she was glad she was sitting down when she read my email because she couldn't believe that I picked the exact same picture that she used to make hers.
Yup, this apple didn't fall too far from the tree.
So I've picked out two patterns and may end up getting both and using both for my costume.
I like the 1st one but it's a one-piece jumpsuit with a pinafore. Not practical if you have to ever go to the bathroom. Love the 2nd one but no clown flair like the first one. (I believe if you click on the picture it'll take you to the Simplicity website where that pattern is.)
Still trying to decide on the fabric and colors, but that will probably be decided by what we can find. I'm thinking some bright polka-dots on white for the dress and bright pink for the pinafore. Still trying to decide if the pantaloons should be white or the same color as the pinafore. (What do you think?) Also, my mom pointed out that both patterns are sadly lacking pockets, so we'll definitely have to add those.
I'll keep you updated on our progress! :)
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Feeling Burned
I've been thinking a lot lately about feeling burned and what it means to be burned. This has actually been a theme for me throughout the last year. It started around May of last year when I was having some down time with God. I was reading through some scriptures about the festivals in the Old Testament and having a conversation with God.
(I know some of you are wondering about "having a conversation with God." It's not like I hear an audible voice, it's more like just praying/thinking and then suddenly there's a clear thought in my head - which obviously isn't something I would think of. When there's a revelation or something huge, I know it's God speaking to my heart. Doesn't happen all the time but when it does I know what the Bible means about God speaking in a still small voice. Eh, okay, some of you probably think I'm crazy, keep reading anyway, mmmk?)
So the conversation when something like this:
Me: okay God, we've been asking for a few things this past year and they're just not happening. What's the deal?
God: what you're asking for isn't going to be easy on you. If you still really want it, I'll give it to you but you'll go through the fire for it. But I promise you, you won't be burned.
Me: huh? What? Like that burning bush in Exodus? (Exodus 3:2b: "Moses saw that though the bush was on fire it did not burn up.")
God: something like that.
So I had my own interpretation of what this meant. I looked at what my friends had gone through to sell their houses or to have kids and weighed what I'd do in similar situations. Thing is, God deals with everyone differently and I should have know our experience would be so much different. (I'm a slow learner sometimes.)
A couple weeks later our house was broken into and some very personal belongings were taken. I immediately went into a tailspin and got angry with God. "Hey! Didn't you say I wouldn't be burned? I'm feeling really burned right now." I talked to Jason about it and he said that maybe my definition of being burned was different than God's definition. When God promises something, he delivers. So I tried to look at the positive - neither of us were home during the break-in. I happened to be wearing the jewelry that is most important to me that day. We were safe, and our home was secured (door fixed & security system installed) within 2 days. But I was still feeling burned - why didn't God protect us from this?
The following weekend we visited a new church in Olive Hill (Jason's hometown) and the pastor, Chris Binion, spoke about Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego from Daniel 3. These were the 3 guys that were thrown into a furnace for refusing to worship created gods. When the king looked in the furnace, he saw 4 men walking around - absolutely fine. (Some say the 4th guy was an angel protecting them, others think he was Jesus.) Here's the kicker about that story - in verse 27: "Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego came out of the fire... the fire had not harmed their bodies, nor was a hair of their heads singed; their robes were not scorched, and there was no smell of fire on them."
The funny thing was that we had been camping with friends that weekend and Chris pointed out that we smelled like campfire when we came in. We didn't have a campfire that morning, and the clothes we wore were clean. These guys were IN the fire, and when they came out their clothes weren't singed at all and they didn't smell a bit like fire. God promised that they wouldn't be burned and they weren't. Even to the extent of not even smelling like they had been in the fire. Dang.
I was starting to get it. These 3 guys didn't whine about getting thrown in the furnace. They were acting out their faith and for it they got thrown into the fire. The guys who threw them in were instantly burned - I can't even imagine being in that situation. (I'm not going to get graphic here, but just imagine that for a moment.) They went through a literal fire and trusted God would save them every step of the way. I'm going through a figurative fire and I'm a whiney-butt.
So I'm adjusting what I think it means to be burned. 2009 was a rough year. Just about everything we asked God for didn't happen. However, we ended 2009 with less debt than we had the year before, and our marriage is pretty strong, and our lives are pretty great. But most importantly, my faith is stronger than it's ever been. Maybe that's the point for going through the fire. To see if we'll bravely proclaim that our God is able to deliver us - or will we get whiney and complain about all the little trials we're going through.
Hey, God made me a whiney person, so I know he's not surprised at my reactions. God never promised me that life would be easy. He doesn't owe me everything I ask for. I'll admit, I'm a spoiled-brat daughter of God. I know how much he loves me and I probably ask for a lot more than I should have (and expect it). I throw my temper-tantrums and he still loves me as much as ever. And then I calm down and realize that through everything, he's still protecting me from how bad it could have been.
I don't think we're done going through the fire. I think there's more to come, but my reaction is getting better. Hopefully soon when I'm feeling the flames again I'll be able to face it head on with the attitude of "bring it on!" Because God promised me that I won't get burned and I'm doing my best to trust him.
(I know some of you are wondering about "having a conversation with God." It's not like I hear an audible voice, it's more like just praying/thinking and then suddenly there's a clear thought in my head - which obviously isn't something I would think of. When there's a revelation or something huge, I know it's God speaking to my heart. Doesn't happen all the time but when it does I know what the Bible means about God speaking in a still small voice. Eh, okay, some of you probably think I'm crazy, keep reading anyway, mmmk?)
So the conversation when something like this:
Me: okay God, we've been asking for a few things this past year and they're just not happening. What's the deal?
God: what you're asking for isn't going to be easy on you. If you still really want it, I'll give it to you but you'll go through the fire for it. But I promise you, you won't be burned.
Me: huh? What? Like that burning bush in Exodus? (Exodus 3:2b: "Moses saw that though the bush was on fire it did not burn up.")
God: something like that.
So I had my own interpretation of what this meant. I looked at what my friends had gone through to sell their houses or to have kids and weighed what I'd do in similar situations. Thing is, God deals with everyone differently and I should have know our experience would be so much different. (I'm a slow learner sometimes.)
A couple weeks later our house was broken into and some very personal belongings were taken. I immediately went into a tailspin and got angry with God. "Hey! Didn't you say I wouldn't be burned? I'm feeling really burned right now." I talked to Jason about it and he said that maybe my definition of being burned was different than God's definition. When God promises something, he delivers. So I tried to look at the positive - neither of us were home during the break-in. I happened to be wearing the jewelry that is most important to me that day. We were safe, and our home was secured (door fixed & security system installed) within 2 days. But I was still feeling burned - why didn't God protect us from this?
The following weekend we visited a new church in Olive Hill (Jason's hometown) and the pastor, Chris Binion, spoke about Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego from Daniel 3. These were the 3 guys that were thrown into a furnace for refusing to worship created gods. When the king looked in the furnace, he saw 4 men walking around - absolutely fine. (Some say the 4th guy was an angel protecting them, others think he was Jesus.) Here's the kicker about that story - in verse 27: "Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego came out of the fire... the fire had not harmed their bodies, nor was a hair of their heads singed; their robes were not scorched, and there was no smell of fire on them."
The funny thing was that we had been camping with friends that weekend and Chris pointed out that we smelled like campfire when we came in. We didn't have a campfire that morning, and the clothes we wore were clean. These guys were IN the fire, and when they came out their clothes weren't singed at all and they didn't smell a bit like fire. God promised that they wouldn't be burned and they weren't. Even to the extent of not even smelling like they had been in the fire. Dang.
I was starting to get it. These 3 guys didn't whine about getting thrown in the furnace. They were acting out their faith and for it they got thrown into the fire. The guys who threw them in were instantly burned - I can't even imagine being in that situation. (I'm not going to get graphic here, but just imagine that for a moment.) They went through a literal fire and trusted God would save them every step of the way. I'm going through a figurative fire and I'm a whiney-butt.
So I'm adjusting what I think it means to be burned. 2009 was a rough year. Just about everything we asked God for didn't happen. However, we ended 2009 with less debt than we had the year before, and our marriage is pretty strong, and our lives are pretty great. But most importantly, my faith is stronger than it's ever been. Maybe that's the point for going through the fire. To see if we'll bravely proclaim that our God is able to deliver us - or will we get whiney and complain about all the little trials we're going through.
Hey, God made me a whiney person, so I know he's not surprised at my reactions. God never promised me that life would be easy. He doesn't owe me everything I ask for. I'll admit, I'm a spoiled-brat daughter of God. I know how much he loves me and I probably ask for a lot more than I should have (and expect it). I throw my temper-tantrums and he still loves me as much as ever. And then I calm down and realize that through everything, he's still protecting me from how bad it could have been.
I don't think we're done going through the fire. I think there's more to come, but my reaction is getting better. Hopefully soon when I'm feeling the flames again I'll be able to face it head on with the attitude of "bring it on!" Because God promised me that I won't get burned and I'm doing my best to trust him.
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