So I guess it is time to start discussing when to start “trying” again. Or, as the blogs say TTC. How annoying and efficient? I want to be the bold and obnoxious one that post something like “why not be honest and just say that you are now forcing your husband to fuck you on a ridiculous schedule? After which, it will no longer be fun for anyone and will probably make him dread seeing your ‘bedroom baby’ eyes.” (Haha – that one actually made me laugh.)
Hubs and I talked about it the other day. I am 100% certain that I frustrated the crap out of him. He wanted to wait a while. So I wanted to know how long “a while” is considered and why now he wants to wait? So then he said we could wait until after my first cycle which is what the doctor said. But that rational answer wasn’t good enough for me because now I want to know why he was willing to quickly change his mind? Now I have him good an annoyed so he asked me how long I want to wait. My answer “I don’t want a new one. I want the same one.” As tears well up and slowly start to mess up my makeup, he tells me that I can’t have that. He can’t give me that.
“But I always get what I want.”
Most people don’t enjoy being sick. They don’t enjoy pain or bleeding or discomfort of any kind. Me, on the other hand, I feel loss. It is as though I transferred my baby bonding emotions and started to feel a connection to the cramping, bloating, and bleeding. That totally doesn’t make sense – I realize – but it still felt like I had something when I had the pain. Now I have nothing but emptiness.
It was horrible. I laid in bed ‘dying’ for two different mornings – five days apart. Apparently my body decided to punish me twice. But seriously, the agony of the “M” word can be multiplied several times. First, you experience the pain of the loss. No matter how long that baby was a baby, it is your fuzz. Your love. Your one and only responsibility. Then it is gone. Second, you deal with the horror that is so beautifully named spontaneous miscarriage. (Seriously what a dumb ass name.) Lastly, after what feels like forever, it is over. No more bloating, or cramping, or pain, or bleeding. Then what? Now you are left with nothing. It is the strangest feeling. Like being forced to deal with the pain of loss all over again. Can I go back to the horrible mornings stuck in bed? I feel like the pain gave me something physical to focus on. It gave my mind something different to deal with – a distraction. Now all I am left with e-mails telling how old my “baby” is and the sweet onsie I bought the hubs for his first Father’s day.
I think the most terrifying moment in life is realizing the stick reads positive. I know that the most horrifying excruciating moment in life is realizing there is nothing you can do to save the life you have quickly grow to love more than yourself, your partner, or life itself.
After running through my list of a million things I could have done differently… coulda, shoulda, woulda… I find myself angry. It isn’t my fault…. Is it? Why doesn’t anyone… someone… care to figure out WHY this happened to me? Why this happens to anyone? Yes, I understand that most lost babies (I am disliking the “M” word today) are due to messed up, extra, or missing chromosomes. But what about the other percentage? The percent everyone seems to overlook. The percent of fuzzs that are love and longed for, have all of the correct physical attributes, yet leave us before they meet us? Why isn’t there someone looking into what happens to them. I get that the “M” word is common and most physicians don’t even blink when it happens. BUT WHY? Why isn’t there billions of dollars researching how to prevent the loss. I could find a million physicians to tell me how to get pregnant but not a single one to tell me how to STAY pregnant.
Maybe I am just angry today (again) but I am upset about more than just the usual.
Why can’t I seem to escape the millions of people getting pregnant or having babies. It is as though the whole British royal family is out to make be cry daily. Seriously, is it really news worthy to enough to have a reporter sitting outside the hospital that the baby MIGHT be born at? Do we really need to see another shot of the hospital doors … by the way, no royalty is even present yet!?! Beyond that, every 10 minutes someone on Facebook, or Twitter, or US Weekly is announcing they are expecting or some 15 year-old in front of me at Walmart is sporting an uncomfortably swollen tummy. Life mocks me as someone innocently comments “I will give you the chair. Who knows, maybe you are already pregnant.” Little so they know, I just stopped feeling like crap two days earlier.
Anyone who says they don’t feel anger or, dare I say, hatred towards the glowing faces that smile at you as they tug shirts down to cover newly enormous guts are liars. Grrrrr. I am mad. I don’t care if it is stupid, misdirected, or a waste of my energy. I don’t want to stop the rush of emotions that make me want to scream, cry, and punch people – all at the same time. Whatever. Clearly, I am not dealing with things rationally or, maybe, I am just in the anger phase of grief. I don’t care. This isn’t the first time I have been irrational and it probably won’t be the last. So everyone just needs to fucking get out of my way. I am sad. I am angry. I am not 10.5 weeks pregnant. Really that is it. Most people need to search for the root of their angry. Not me. That e-mail from thebump.com that announced “Today you are 10 weeks pregnant. Your baby is now growing….” nailed it on the head. My baby isn’t growing anything but weeds from underneath my wedding day love bush. Seriously, did I not remove my due date from your site? Take a hint.
We returned home from our honeymoon to the shock of a lifetime. I was pregnant. Like, for real, P-R-E-G-N-A-N-T.
Like most newlyweds, we planned on having children. Our actual plan was to have fun the first few months before actively trying. A few of our friends had experienced technical difficulties in the procreation department so we assumed it would take us a few months as few. WELL, how wrong we were!
Boom. I was knocked up like nobody’s business. After the initial shock, a few tears (happy tears, of course), and a good nights rest, my whole frame of thinking changed. I was no longer living in my week-to-week scheduled life. I was suddenly planning for 5 months and, definitely, 9 months down the road. I was spending hours on Pintrest daydreaming about the perfect nursery and reading endless articles on the status of my growing Feetie (Hubs and my affectionate name for our fetus).
OBSESSED – there is no other word to describe how I felt. My world shifted. How quickly nothing else mattered.
First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes…. the most amazing honeymoon.
Day 1 – Travel
L.O.N.G – The Hubs was not impressed by the long flight and decided to stay in Tahiti so he never has to do it again. He quickly became obsessed with geckos and took a million pictures of the one on our balcony. He was also worried about the balcony door being left open and dreamt that our room was taken over by geckos in the night.
After the long trip, I intend to contact a physician for sleeping pills, if I ever have a flight that long again. But enjoyed getting to the island and ordering our first drink.
Day 2 – Tahiti
Hubs was very excited for all his “firsts” – first time waking up to see the ocean and first time ordering room service. At the hotel lagoon, he enjoyed breaking in the new GoPro and wore out the battery – recording fish videos. During our trip to Papette, he loved walking around like a photobug and was even call a “paparazzi” by a local. We broke in the pool with a cocktail in the afternoon. And enjoyed dinner and drinks in the evening.
I enjoyed my first trip to Papette especially the market (which looked like it was straight out of a movie) and learning about/picking out my own Tahitian black pearls. I enjoyed returning to relax by the pool and eating dinner (clearly they French Tahitians do not know how to make pesto). After I fell asleep in the hammock, after one vodka drink, we decided to turn in early – earlier than we have ever gone to bed. We blamed it on the jet-lag.
Day 3 – Tahiti/Moorea
We enjoyed relaxing in the morning and exploring the resort. The inter-island airport was tiny and every little security.
The overwater bungalow in Moorea is amazing. The view is indescribable beautiful. We watched the sunset and Hubs played in the lagoon – first time in the ocean…ever! I was too scare of all the creatures to jump in. We also enjoyed watching the dolphins practice tricks a few feet from our bungalow.
In the evening, we ventured to the general store and spend $75 on a liter of vodka. We also ate a good dinner out by the pool and found a pet cat. We named her “Hungry” in French. Once again, we lived on the wild side and fell sleep by 8:30.
Day 4 – Moorea
We woke up WAY too early because my prompt Hubs was worry we would be late. Enjoyed the same breakfast and then were picked up by the Albert’s Tours. Less than 5 minutes into the jetski ride, we saw a school of baby dolphins – they were doing tricks and jumping out of the water. The water was amazingly turquoise – it was beautiful.
Hubs’ favorite part was swimming with the stingrays and sharks. He got lots of footage of petting the stingrays and uncomfortably close shots of the sharks. I was scared and spent most of the time screaming like a little girl.
When we returned, we took advantage of the swim up bar and enjoyed lunch/drinks. Then took a cat nap by the pool. Afterward, we returned to our bungalow and had drinks on the porch. There was a traditional Tahitian wedding on the beach across the lagoon. Both of us wept while watching someone we didn’t know get married!
Dinner was at the same spot and we annoyed the other patrons by feeding our “pet” cat. We changes his name to “Meow Meow” because we couldn’t remember how to pronounce the French word for hungry.
That night, I discovered I had acquired my first Tahitian sunburn.
Day 5 – Moorea
We got up early to eat the same breakfast and get picked up by Albert’s tours. We went on an ATV tour of the island. It was interesting to see the center of the island (crater) and the surrounding peaks – created by the volcanoes. We went to two peaks and stopped at the Juice Factory. The pineapple juice and mango sorbet was AMAZINGY delicious. I also tried pineapple for the first time and thought it was delicious.
We returned to shower and went out to the beach for lunch. Afterward, I purchased a sun hat from the hotel shop and fell in LOVE with it. We stayed in the room for a little while (to escape the sun) and have a few drinks.
For happy hour, we went back out to the pool and I fell in love with the Balsamic Martini – a frozen raspberry treat! Hubs realized that fruity “girl” drinks don’t sit well with his tummy. I also ate a gallon of the mustard olives….yum!
That evening, we went to Les Tipaniers for dinner. It was an Italian restaurant that had a menu filled with fish dishes. Hubs tried the escargot for the first time and was not impressed. I, on the other hand, loved the escargot and enjoyed my vanilla scented cream sauce with a mixture of seafoods – including a fish that fell apart like butter. Hubs ordered a meat lasagna but was not hugely impressed. He felt the sauce was too ‘tangy’ and the beef tasted different. I think he is just spoiled by my cooking!
Impressively, stayed up until 9:30.
Day 6 – Moorea/Bora Bora
Ate breakfast in the hotel and then walked up to the store to buy a second bottle of vodka and replace the bag of Doritos (Hubs fed the first one to the fish). We returned to the bungalow to catch a morning vodka buzz and enjoy the view from our deck. Afterward, we quickly repacked our bags and checked out of the hotel. The shuttle picked us up from the hotel and took us to the airport. It did not have any security but was not lacking cats and chickens. After much urging, Hubs bought his first souvenir – a hand carved wooden stingray.
The flight was longer than the first one but only a half hour. We were able to take lots of pictures of the islands from the air – it was gorgeous. Once we landed, we were greeted by a boat to take us to the Four Seasons. After seeing the water bungalow, we decided to upgrade to the HUGE villa on the water with a private pool, hot tub, and beach. The guide informed us that, normally, it costs $10,000 a night to rent the villa and sleeps six adults.
We immediately broke in the hot tub. Then went to the Sunset Bar for dinner. I had fabulous sushi and Hubs was thrilled to order off the room service menu which included chicken tenders, pizza, and American-style hamburgers.
After staying up past 10:00, we were wiped out and went to bed.
Day 7 – Bora Bora
Woke up for breakfast at the Four Seasons– it was amazing compared to the Intercontinental! We made sure to steal fixings for sandwiches for lunch, not because we are cheap but because we are badasses.
Returned to the villa and spent time on our personal beach. Hubs was disappointed by the lack of fish but I enjoyed the relaxing time reading. We went down to the lagoon so Hubs could swim and chase fish. He enjoyed the opportunity to use his GoPro and I, again, enjoyed reading on the beach.
Afterward, we came back to the villa to eat our sammies and then returned to a different lagoon. There, we kayaked and learned to paddle board. I really enjoyed paddle boarding and I hope to do it again!
In the late afternoon, we came back to the villa to swim in our pool and get ready for sunset. We watched the sunset from Sunset Bar but were unable to see most of it due to large clouds. It did make for an interesting display of sunrays which reflected on the surrounding clouds. We decided to stay at the bar for dinner. Hubs enjoyed a peperoni pizza and I devoured more sushi.
We came back to the room and started watching “Couples’ Retreat” – looking closely for the Bora Bora scenery – before falling asleep.
Day 8 – Bora Bora
We had breakfast at the hotel and, again, enjoyed it – second day of smoked salmon on an English muffin…yum. Afterward, we returned to the room to finish watching “Couples’ Retreat” and then sat on our deck and read. I (finally) finished my Steve Jobs biography. Later, we walked our beach and collected shells.
Hubs went scuba diving in the afternoon. He thought it was scary at first because he was strapped with heavy gear when jumping into the water. He found it awkward to keep the regulator in his mouth and breath normal while under water. Also, his ears popped as he descended approximately twenty feet down. He really enjoyed seeing all the species of fish and was very excited to get thirty minutes of underwater footage – recorded on his GoPro.
I went to the spa and had a relaxing Polynesian massage. It was fabulously relaxing and I enjoyed using the Jacuzzi, steam room, and “experience” shower afterward.
That evening we relaxed, poured ourselves a drink, watched the end of game seven of the NBA Eastern Conference Finals. Then we showered and got ready for dinner.
Dinner was a buffet of Polynesian cuisine – mainly raw fish and fruit dishes. Hubs was able to find beef and chicken so he didn’t starve. After dinner, there was a dance show provided by locals. According to Hubs, “the girls can shake their booties here” and he especially enjoyed the loud screaming noises made by the men. I was pulled on stage to perform with the dancers – clearly, I am able to shake my booty like a white girl but can’t remember steps to save my life. Then there was a three man fire show. They twirled batons of fire and performed to a beating drum.
We came back to the room and Hubs fell asleep 2 minutes into “The Avengers”.
Day 9 – Bora Bora
Woke up and had breakfast at the hotel. After breakfast, we returned to the room to relax and finish watching “The Avengers”. We continued to be lazy and relax on the outdoor furniture.
In the early afternoon, we caught the hotel shuttle to the main island of Bora Bora. There were went to Bloody Mary’s which is a world famous sand bottom restaurant. The Red Ahi Tuna sashimi was incredibly fresh and Hubs enjoyed his burger. The fruit of the day was strawberry so we both indulged in a couple fresh strawberry daiquiris. They were fabulous. We still had time remaining before the shuttle back so we wandered around the small shops – Hubs was still on the tiki man hunt. We also bought our standard “must-have” vacation can-koozy.
The boat ride back was beautiful and allowed us to see more of the island since we had to travel all the way to the other side. When we got back, we changed and went to the Sunset Bar to enjoy our final sunset on the island. I had amaze-balls sushi again (legit) and Hubs had good pasta. The sunset was better than the last time we watched it so we took plenty of pictures. The meal was completed by amazing raspberry and mango sorbets – they were perfect and beautifully topped with a chocolate straw.
After a long night of dinner, drinks, and desert, we stopped to pick up a movie and returned to the room. After a last “night cap” drink and iPod jam session, we quickly fell asleep watching the movie.
Day 10 – Bora Bora/ Travel
We were awakened very early in the morning by a gecko “kiss” greeting (the noise they made sounds like an obnoxious smacking kiss). Hubs admitted the geckos were mocking him (and his irrationally adorable fear) and I figured they were saying good bye to us. Later we woke up to our last day and went to breakfast. I still was not tired of the smoked salmon and cream cheese English muffins and was sad that it would be my last. Hubs was tired of breakfast but will miss having an omelet made for him each morning, upon request and to his exact specifications.
Hubs stole a chunk of bread from breakfast and off we went to find a kayak. Because the current and wind had been so strong, the last several days, we were unable to take the kayaks outside of the lagoon area. Luckily, on our last day, we were able to take the kayaks out and found a small shallow area, under one of the bridges, to feed the stolen bread to our fishy friends.
After kayaking, we returned to our villa to use the Jacuzzi, relax on the private beach, and drink our last honeymooners’ bottle of champagne. We toasted to a great vacation and many more anniversary trips to come. We quickly got ready for the long day of travel and went to eat lunch for the first and last time at the outdoor restaurant.
Sadly, it was time to pack up and check out of the villa at the Four Seasons Bora Bora. We said our goodbyes to the concierge Maria, paid our tab, and jumped on the boat shuttle to the airport. At the airport, Hubs finally found the ‘perfect’ tiki man at the ‘perfect’ price – crazy since he had been searching the whole trip.
The flight from Bora Bora to Tahiti was eventful, to say the least. During takeoff, a British women started screaming “Bloody Hell” (literally) and got very upset about dirty water leaking from the ceiling. She was convinced that her pants (pink khakis and ugly see-through water tank) were RUINED. She demanded to be compensated and made a huge ruckus on the plane. We, along with the rest of the plane, found the whole event to be quite entertaining.
There was a several hour layover in Tahiti, so we made some friends and took a taxi to the Intercontinental Hotel for dinner (the same one we stayed at earlier in the trip). It was nice to spend the time meeting new people, enjoying drinks, and getting one last seafood meal (even Hubs had fish and chips).
Finally the fun ended and we were forced to get on the plane from Tahiti to LA. It was a terribly long flight and I got extremely motion sick in the middle. It was the first time I have ever had to run to the small in-plane restroom to throw up. Not my idea of fun. As I mentioned during the flight here, I will NEVER take an international flight without seeing a physician first – sleeping pills/anti-anxieties are a new must-have.
The layover in LA went very smoothly. We made it through customs and security without any snags and made it to our Delta connection without issues.
What I Learned About My NEW Hubs:
He has an irrational fear of geckos.
Most Memorable Moment of the Trip:
Sitting on the deck in Moor’ea drinking cocktails, laughing about the wedding across the bay, and watching the sunset…. Also Hubs feeding almost the whole bag of Doritios to the fish.
My best friend and I got married in May. Personally, I think the whole “love of your life” thing is stupid. You should marry the man who makes you feel amazing and makes you smile when you really want to punch someone (which is common for me). Let’s be honest, staying out of jail is far more important than having the white picket fence, right?
D wasn’t the man of my dreams and I mean that in the best way possible. Honestly, I have never dreamed about a man or had a “type”. Usually, men were attractive until I talked to them…. At which point, they annoyed me – OR – they decided I was too difficult to waste their time on. D was different. He became my friend and quickly edged his way into my heart – which I had attempted to sew shut. The entire time we were dating, I eased my commitment phobic heart by saying “I will stay until I have a reason to leave.” Fortunately for me, he never gave me a reason to use my ‘opt out’ clause. That isn’t to say that everything is dandy through my rose colored Michael Kors glasses. I think I just needed the reminder that I was CHOOSING to stay and not staying out of necessity.
So despite the fact that we weren’t “Meant To Be”, we were entirely made for each other and spend every day reminding each other of that fact. From the way our bodies twist together when we lay down to watch an episode of our most recent favorite show to the way we know exactly which catchphrase the other is going to use at that moment, our souls were meant to desire and depend on one another.
My best friend, My Teammate, My Husband
I am the oldest of three girls. Growing up things were good. I know everyone likes to blame things on their parents or their childhood but, truthfully, things were pretty good. I can’t remember wanting for anything – beside the normal Santa wishlist crap.
In high school, things got weird. I have never been the normal “follow the crowd” type person and, yet, I have always yearned to be accepted. It is like walking than a never achievable tight rope. I wanted to stand out as different but still be recognized as one of the crowd. I think that is becoming cool now. People are starting to become appreciated more for being individuals than being one of the masses. It has become “trendy” to become weird or abnormal. Maybe that is part of getting older and more accepting of ones self or maybe our society is truly embracing differences.
Being different makes me “me” but, in all honesty, I think it is the hardest to be “me”. It is so much easier to be who we think we should be. Slowly, I am coming to terms with the fact that I am a huge softy, who cries at radio commercials and would rather sleep in bed with my hubs every night than travel the country. Slowly, I am discovering that my visibly hard exterior is really a self-preservation technique that isn’t necessary and is often times misconstrued as a bitchiness.
I thank my hubs for his incredible ability to be comfortable in his own skin. One time, I spent hours trying to figure out what I had done to make someone do something that hurt my feelings. He, on the other hand, shrugged when I asked him and simply said “they’re just weird”. So wait…. it isn’t me? I didn’t make them do this? I love that he was smart enough and secure enough to know that it wasn’t something I (or we) had done. More than likely, their actions were due to their own insecurities or other factors that didn’t involve me (or us). Silly me. Why wasn’t I smart enough to think of that? Another time, he played in a 3-on-3 basketball tournament without playing ball for five years. When I asked him if he was nervous, he reply “no”. He is just sure of himself. Unfortunately, the team didn’t make it past the first round but I admire his ability to know he is good enough and embrace the fact that he will do as well as he can.
In the past year, my life has changed drastically – I turned into my mother. I moved to the suburbs, purchased an SUV (LOVE IT), and got married. Although this drastic change is a welcomed one, it has completely thrown my “plan” for a loop. It has caused me to rethink everything I wanted and start thinking about what I really, truly want and who I really, truly am as a person. I am enjoying this “work in progress” attitude and maybe the person who needs to accept my weird, out of the ordinary self, is me.
Okay look, I am not a writer. Ask my mother. My sister is a far better writer than I am. In college, I had my aspiring writer friend proof read my writing – no joke, my grades improved an entire letter. So, yes, I know I am a terrible writer. I use commas far too frequently and hyphens in inappropriate places. BUT, despite it all, I have things to say and life stories to chronicle.
I am known for immediately saying the things in my head and rarely censoring myself. Some people may find it refreshingly honest and others incredibly annoying. Whatever the case, I am excited to start sharing the way I view life – the good, the great, and the ugly.