praise be, October is ending

I know I’ve done some bitching about October in the past, so I would really like to celebrate its closing with a bang. I haven’t come up with any Earth-shattering post to create said bang, but would that I could. (I bet you thought I was going to apologize to October for hating it, didn’t you. Fat chance). I can’t imagine an October that doesn’t involve missing Baby Wyatt like crazy. I can’t imagine much of the future like that anyway, but I think October will be especially sucky. At least we can remember his birthday as something good—who doesn’t like cake and ice cream, or for those gluten-free relatives screwing with my gene pool, ice cream cake—with a party and presents (for me, probably). Plus, July is basically when everyone in my family is born anyway so it makes perfect sense to throw in yet another day of celebration and just keep that train rollin’. Additionally, I was finally cleared for health insurance and I think—think—I’m ready to “try again.” Boy, do I hate calling it that. It sounds like last time was an Epic Fail (http://failblog.org/), which, as you know, does not suit my competitive drive. It just sounds sad. Well, I guess it is sad. To celebrate the end of October, I’m going skiing. Take that!

dare I say, an upward swing?

I’m not sure if admitting this will immediately backfire (I’m not necessarily superstitious…but I’d rather be safe than sorry), so I’ll knock on wood before telling you that things have been looking up lately. I’m not sure if it was Wyatt’s due date passing; I wouldn’t be pregnant anymore anyway (well, hopefully). Or maybe it’s just the passing of time; my grandfather always says “Father Time marches on” and boy does he. Maybe it’s that other things are beginning to have appeal again, so I can focus on them instead of how pissed I am that I have to job hunt rather than change diapers or that I still have five pounds to lose but I can’t figure out where it went since my “normal” clothes all fit again and I feel fine (that I even know I weigh more than before is due to Hubby’s interest in the scale at the gym because he wants to see if he is “getting huge” so obviously I like to play that game too—digression). Maybe it’s that I finally have health insurance after all that hassle. Maybe it’s that I’m not as desperate to have a new baby as I was in the beginning. Maybe it’s that I visited my friend with the newborn boy and it was fine (he was just another wrinkly, crying baby—not mine). Whatever it is, I’ll take it. It feels nice to think about other things, worry about other things, and feel like, at least some of the time, things will be okay.

I’m not saying I don’t continually do research (and then worry about the new things I find that could go wrong “next time”) or get excited about the possibility that I could make another baby soon. I’m not saying I don’t miss him every single day. But I am saying, at the risk of jinxing myself, that things are getting better. And for me, that’s a big admission.

The Goodness of October

Things that are good in October: Halloween, changing foliage, cool air, field hockey, Nana’s birthday, Patti K’s birthday, first snow (?), daylight savings, slippers.

I figure I should take time to consider the great things about October, of which there are many. Many more than even I listed, obviously, but I tried to get the most important/best ones. 1) With Halloween comes crazy or stupid costumes, lots of candy, carving pumpkins, and usually (when you are an adult) a sweet party. Roasted pumpkin seeds taste awesome. And so do Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. 2) October is also great for leaf-peeping. In Colorado, it is the gorgeous aspens people flock to see. They turn bright, beautiful yellow and then tarnish into a sweet gold. Against the consistently blue-bird sky they are lovely. 3) I also enjoy the weather. When you wake up, it is in the 40s and crisp. Daytime continues with summer in the 70s with sunshine (in Colorado that is). Then, for the last dog walk of the evening you have to snuggle up in a vest and sweatshirt again. Cozy, cozy, cozy. 4) While I can’t coach or play much field hockey out here, there is nothing I miss more than walking down to the field at 4pm with my gear and my team. The leaves are beautiful, the air is cold and clean, the promise of a good workout, some camaraderie, and a quick sunset are present. Donning that jersey feels best in October. 5) Birthdays of great people. Enough said. 6) First snow. Also enough said. 7) Daylight savings means it is easier to wake up in the morning, not that I have to. I don’t particularly like coming home from work after 3 hours of darkness have passed, but it makes the day more manageable and it means winter is just around the corner. 8) I love the time of year when it makes sense to bust out the old LLBean slippers. It’s become too cold for continuous barefeet, and the feel of fuzzy, fleecy slippers is almost as good. Plus, I don’t like walking around in socks. It feels yucky on the bottom and gives me tactile dysfunction when I step on something smooshy in the kitchen. These are things that rule in October.

Past due...

Wyatt was due this week. While I understand only 10-20% of babies actually come on their due date, it was a big date for me. Even though Hubby and his brother were late, and my brother and I were early, it was the best guess we had, you know? Since January we have had 10/14/10 stamped on our brains. We eagerly awaited October, curious about what would happen along the journey. We carved out October as a month of potential arrival. This is when all our last minute baby shopping would have taken place, and also when I would have been a huge, complainy person because I would have been uncomfortable and impatient. Instead, life went on without him. We found out he was a "him" almost three months early. I am not huge, and I am not complaining about pregnancy-related things (just other things, like health insurance). But 10/14 wasn’t that bad. I thought it would be terrible. I thought I would have to waste away on the couch with two boxes of tissues, the photo album, and sad movies. But I didn’t. Life went on. As it tends to do. My mum sent a beautiful homemade tapestry for her “mountain grandson,” and we received a couple nice cards from other parents and grandparents, etc. Someone dedicated the half-marathon she was running to Wyatt. Why she was running a half-marathon in the first place is beyond me, but I digress. Most people didn’t even know the significance of the date, which I think helped us just get through it. What’s a due date anyway? It’s not like the library where we get fined for being late. It’s not like a race where you get props for being early. It just is what it is. And now it’s gone. I do feel a small weight has been lifted, which is a nice side-effect, but I still feel very heavy in my heart.

Emotions!

Call me crazy, but this “waiting to make a baby” thing is well, making me crazy. I never in my life thought I would become one of those women (usually in movies) who hears that clock ticking. I guess it’s not so much the biological clock as just the passing of time in general; I was supposed to have a baby any day now, and instead I lost him 12 weeks early. My body says “let’s get crackin’!” and my mind says “dammit, I want a baby!” So, naturally, I’m ready to go. I’m ready. Especially since there are no guarantees I’ll get pregnant right away. The thought of waiting to get pregnant and then waiting another 9 months to actually bring home a baby makes me sick. What also makes me sick is thinking about how worried I am going to be during the “next time.” So it’s sort contradictory, which only makes it more emotional. For example, I know I have to get new health insurance before I even think about making another baby. While it is hard to wait, I can rationalize that. But it doesn’t make me any less sad or mad about it. (I pretty much had a complete breakdown this weekend, but that’s another story). Then I think, well, I shouldn’t be sad because it is what it is and I need to be smart. And then I think, well, f being smart, I want a baby. Then I think, well, every “cycle” you wait is another cycle your body and mind have healed. But then I think f healing, I just want to get going here. If you are following my ramble you probably understand how confused I am! Perhaps pregnancy hormones aren’t actually a good idea right now…but f pregnancy hormones, I’ll kill ‘em!

I don't like October this year

I’m boycotting October this year. I really would just rather have it be November. I love fall weather, and I think Halloween is hilarious, but I just don’t care this year. While November weather is usually terribly raw and unforgiving (below freezing but no snow to play in!), it gets really dark by 3pm, and everyone starts to hide out in their houses because it is, as I said, dark and cold, I still would rather have October just be done with already. Why do I need to sit through 31 days of it? Where is Doc Brown and his time machine when I need him?*

We have plenty of great birthdays to celebrate this month, including my 85 year old nana’s, but we don’t have our own baby’s to be ready and thankful for. This is why I say screw October 2010 and bring on the future already. Skipping this month would bring me that much closer to having another baby—one that I could bring home, hopefully—and allow me that much more time to grieve and feel better about my life and missing Baby Wyatt forever. I never really had anything against October but this year, f you, month of the Opal.

*on a side note, I once took a class in the engineering classroom building (although I have never taken anything remotely close to engineering) and the bathroom was right across from a NCAA-bracket style “Best Scientist Ever” contest. Each week people (nerds) in the building could vote on the brackets, deciding who would proceed to the next round. Louis Pasteur vs. Marie Curie, etc. The finals came down to Einstein v. Doc Brown. I really appreciated the nerdy humor. And Doc Brown won. The DeLorean is amazing.

the Unknown

I knew there was a good chance we would never know for certain what happened to our baby, why he died in the womb at 27 weeks’ gestation, 13 weeks before he was due to join us and several weeks before he would have been even remotely okay if he was born alive. Even though I knew the likelihood of not finding an answer, it still makes me mad and scared out of my mind. There’s just nothing I can do about it.

All dozen blood tests came back normal. My blood is normal. My genes are normal. I am not carrying any crazy infections, diseases, or mutations that could have caused him to die. This means they don’t have any more tests for me. And because Wyatt’s chromosome test was good, they don’t even have to look at Hubby (which is a shame because I bet he is a huge blood-test wimp). While this is great news for a future pregnancy (12 fewer things to worry about—out of the now million running through my head, great), it is crappy news for Wyatt. Why can’t we figure it out? Why can’t we get an answer? It stinks thinking we’ll have to go with the doctors’ “most likely it was _____” explanations. In our case, it was the umbilical cord—the wrong color and shape, too small near his little belly-button-to-be. But it’s only “most likely” that was the cause. So what “really” was it? Oh, how I wish I could know. Maybe he can tell me when we meet again someday.