Instead of spending Willa's nap doing something productive, I went through all of my pictures on Flickr, and put together slide shows of each of the last 4 years.
There are certainly a lot of moments and people dear to us who weren't captured. These are not my "best" pictures- some are unflattering, some are blurry, etc., but they are the pictures that most accurately depict that year.

2005 was about me recovering from career ending shoulder surgery, tons of physical therapy, finding out my dad's cancer had metastasized, a major back injury, and my husband's internship.

In 2006 I was pregnant 3 times (!!!), had two miscarriages, landed an ad campaign with Nikon, Turned 30, had my pictures in The New York Times, traveled a bunch, and had the enjoyable part of my pregnancy with Willa.

2007 was perhaps the most important year I've ever had. I had a very rough pregnancy and was bed ridden for months, Willa was born, my husband became chief resident, and my father passed away.

2008 has been interesting. Willa was modeling, my husband turned 30, finished his residency, and started his fellowship. We moved, my pictures were published in a book, I re injured my shoulder, Obama became president elect, and Willa was diagnosed with Urticaria.

Posted by torrie at 07:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (8)

I've been thinking a lot lately about whether or not we should try to have another baby.

I have so many mixed feeling about it.

I have a ton of medical issues to consider. Will my body be able to handle another pregnancy?
I keep telling myself that maybe if I lost some weight and REALLY got in shape that my body might be better equipped to handle pregnancy. But, I was in fairly good shape when I got pregnant with Willa. I had been working out with a trainer for about 4 months before I got pregnant. And, I might have been 10-15 pounds over-weight, but I was still relatively small. Plus, Willa was a small baby (6.6 lbs and 19 inches), and I gained the appropriate amount of weight (35lbs.), and I still had trouble carrying her.
What if I had another horrible pregnancy again where I was bed ridden for months, except this time I had to take care of a pre-schooler too?

And what if I have to go through losing a pregnancy again?
That was so difficult, and both times it took me quite a while to get back on my feet.
How will I be able to lay around and cry and eat massive amounts of chocolate if I have to take care of my kid. On second thought, maybe it would be easier to deal with. Having Willa around when my dad died somehow helped me.

I need to make sure that if I do decide to try for another baby, that I'm doing it for the right reasons. Not because I missed out on enjoying pregnancy- nobody fawning over me- no babymoon- no wearing cute maternity clothes- no shopping for baby things- because I was confined to bed. And not because I miss having a baby around, because THEY GROW UP.

The amazing feeling you get when your kid smiles, or laughs, or gives you a hug is addictive. I have to remind myself of how hard it is. I also have to be honest with myself- I don't handle stress well. It takes its toll on me physically and mentally. I'm also not good at letting people help me. So, if I had another kid I'd have to deal with all of that stress-the sleepless nights, the exhaustion, etc., and I'm honestly not sure if I want to go through that again.

Having a second child is, I would imagine, so much different than having one child, because now you have to take care of a newborn AND make sure you are paying enough attention to your older child. I'm sure I would drive myself crazy trying to be the perfect mother.

My life is crazy right now. I hardly have any time for myself, and I am constantly overwhelmed. My husband and I rarely go out, and I've never spent a night apart from Willa. Does it make sense then, when Willa is more independent, and going to preschool, and our lives are finally getting easier, to try to have another baby?

Here's another strange reason I'm hesitant to try for another- I've always had a feeling that I was going to have twins. Most people don't know this, but we're pretty sure my pregnancy with Willa was originally twins. My HCG levels were high. I had a feeling that I was pregnant with twins. When I had my first ultrasound there was something else in there that my doctor couldn't identify. And then when Willa was born we discovered that she had two placentas fused together. My doctor thinks that I was, in fact pregnant with twins and that the other baby was absorbed. Maybe this explains why Willa is extra awesome.
I'm afraid that if I get pregnant again that it will be with twins, and I don't know if my body could handle that.

With all that said-

I have a brother and two sisters. We are VERY different. We are not as close as most siblings.
BUT, my father's illness brought my brother and I together. We gained mutual respect for each other. And I can't imagine going through the weeks surrounding my father's death without him.
Julie wrote a post about this topic, and her words are much more eloquent than mine could ever be.
Having a sibling makes you feel less alone in the world. Shouldn't we try to give Willa that gift?

Having Willa has been the best experience of my life. Shouldn't I do it again? Won't all of the pain and stress be worth it? The cynical side of me wonders if I shouldn't temp fate- Willa is so fantastic that I couldn't possibly have another equally fantastic child- or could I?

Posted by torrie at 10:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (19)

I think it has taken me 41/2 months to finally write this because I don't feel like i could ever do this story justice, but here it is anyway.

It was Monday May 14. My doctor was planning on inducing me on Tuesday. I really didn't want to be induced, but I was in so much pain at that point that I just wanted the pregnancy to be over.
At 12:30pm I visited my acupuncturist hoping that he could kick start my labor.
At 2pm I had an appointment with my OB. She said I was still less than 2cm dilated, but that I was "soft and so ready to go". She also asked me if I was aware that I was having contractions. I wasn't. I just felt kind of crampy. She told me to check into the hospital at midnight. They were going to insert something into my cervix to soften it and get labor going- unless of course, I was already having regular contractions.
Labor and delivery was really busy that night so they called us and asked us to come at 1:30am instead.
We checked in (we are in the biggest birthing room in the hospital- my doctor hooked us up) and I was hooked up to the monitors and IV's. It turns out that I was having contractions about five minutes apart so they couldn't give me the medicine to soften my cervix because I was already technically in labor. At 3:00am they started me on a low dose of pitocin.

They pump me up with so much fluid over-night that for the first time in my pregnancy my ankles are swollen and I get some stretch marks on my hips- NO KIDDING.

Over the next few hours various nurses and doctors kept saying to me "are you sure you're not feeling anything?"
My contractions were increasing and I still wasn't feeling them.

Over night I just hung out with my husband and watched DVD's- all the while watching my contractions increase on the monitor, but not feeling anything.

At some point early in the morning I had to poop. I was so worried that they weren't going to let me go to the bathroom because they told me once I was hooked up to the IV's and monitors that I couldn't get out of bed, but the nurse took one look at my terrified face and unhooked me. I was so relieved. I had spent the entire pregnancy- from the moment I first saw those two lines- worrying that I would poop on the table during delivery.

My contractions increased in frequency and strength throughout the morning- still with no pain.

My mother arrives.

At around 11AM one of my doctor's partners (my doctor was at her office a few blocks away) comes in to check on me. I am 4cm dilated.
He tells me that he wants to break my water and insert a catheter and that if I was planning on getting an epidural I should do it now because once my water breaks I should be in pain. I feel really weird about getting an epidural when I'm not having any pain, but I figure eventually there is going to be pain so we call the anesthesiologist.

After months of worrying, and getting an MRI and being assured that even though my back is fucked up, it's not fucked up in the way that should affect the epidural, they have trouble putting in my epidural. It takes several tries and two doctors.

They finally get the epidural in. I sit and wait for the supposed wonderful feeling that all of these woman talk about. The feeling that makes people want to hug their anesthesiologist. I just feel like my ass is asleep. I HATE the epidural. I tell my husband to have them turn it off. The nurses and doctors think I am a crazy woman. They keep asking me if I'm sure. I am sure. They turn it off.

My best friend arrives.

We are laughing and joking around with the doctors and nurses. We ask them to guess when the baby will be born. We hear things like 6pm and 10pm.

All of a sudden at about 12:30 I start experiencing INTENSE pain. It is different from how everyone describes it. It is not in my abdomen. It is in my crotch. I close my eyes and try to work through the pain. We call the anesthesiologists back to turn on the epidural. NOW I wouldn't mind a numb ass.

My doctor's partner sticks his head in the room as he's heading out of the hospital. I tell him that I'm having a lot of pain and pressure. He checks me. I am 8cm dilated. He is VERY surprised at how quickly I'm progressing.

My in-laws arrive. I am aware of their presence, but am focusing on getting through the pain. I assume that my husband will ask them to leave before I start pushing because that is what we had discussed.

SO MUCH PAIN. The epidural is doing nothing.

My best friend keeps asking why I'm not screaming. "Where's the screaming? How come there's no screaming?"

My doctor arrives. She is wearing a beautiful dress.
She had been sitting at her desk eating a sandwich telling her husband that she would probably miss the party they were supposed to go to that night because I was in labor, when her partner called her to tell her I was 8cm. She stopped eating her sandwich and ran over to the hospital. I tell her to take her time and finish her sandwich. She says "Um, yeah, I think I'm going to change into my scrubs".

Everyone in the room is watching my contractions on the monitor. My husband had explained to them how it worked. My best friend still doesn't understand why I'm not screaming.

She comes back into the room at 1pm and checks me. I am 10 cm dilated. She tells me it's time to start pushing. I wonder if she got to finish her sandwich. My best friend can't believe that after 16 years of me telling her that one day she would be there when I gave birth, that she is actually going to watch me give birth.

My doctor and my nurse tell me to start pushing. It is then that I realize that I have no idea how to push. It takes me a few tries to figure it out. My doctor has the epidural turned off which is fine with me because it wasn't giving me any relief anyway. (My doctor later says to me that she thinks she shouldn't have turned off my epidural. She thought it was making me numb, but she realizes now that it was just taking me a little while to learn how to push.)

My in-laws are still in the room. My father-in-law is standing a few feet away from the horror show that is my vagina.

My husband is holding one of my legs, my mother is holding my other leg and my best friend is pushing my head forward.

My doctor laughs and says that this is the most people she's ever had in the room during a delivery.

I am pushing. It is REALLY hard. It feels like the worst constipation I've ever had, times ten.

I am tired. I had pretty much been awake at this point for a day and a half.

More pushing. The contractions are right on top of each other. I only have a few seconds between each. I'm thinking if I could just rest for a couple of minutes...

But the urge to push is overwhelming.

I BEG for the vacuum. I say I can't do this. I feel the head and I'm thinking that there is no way I'm going to be able to get it out on my own. My doctor stays completely calm and tells me I'm doing fine. I feel like I've been pushing forever.

FINALLY the head comes out. I let out a scream. My best friend is relieved to know that I am human. I actually say "Thank God" out loud. I know the rest will be easy.

60 seconds later, at 2:30pm, after one hour of pushing, Willa was born.

There was much excitement and tears in the room.

My doctor tries to place Willa on my chest, but the umbilical cord is way to short- she can barely lift her. She asks my husband for help. He cuts the cord. I get to meet Willa. We are all amazed- when I was born I almost died because my umbilical cord was wrapped around my neck AND it was too short. I am relieved that Willa's cord was not wrapped around her neck.

Willa is perfect. I can't believe she is finally here. I feel the most at peace I have ever felt. Everyone around me is a flurry of nerves and I have never felt so relaxed.

I am a mother.

It was worth the wait.

Posted by torrie at 12:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (12)

Willa Elizabeth!

Born on May 15th at 2:30 pm
6lbs. 6oz.
19 inches

Story coming soon....

Posted by torrie at 08:27 AM | Permalink | Comments (72)

I am being admitted to the hospital at midnight tonight.
My doctor said "You are so ready to go."
I'm apparently having contractions, but I can't really feel them.

By tomorrow evening I should have a human.

Please keep your fingers crossed for us.

This is all very surreal.

I will try to update. At the very least I should be able to update through Twitter.

Holy shit, this is crazy.

Posted by torrie at 04:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (23)

I had an appointment with my OB today. I haven't really dilated or effaced any more since last week, which is frustrating. Frustrating because I've reached a new level of discomfort. (This is the part where you kindly keep your mouth shut and don't say things like "all pregnant women are uncomfortable at this point" because if you say something like that I might use what little energy I have left to kill you. Then I will eat you, which might give me horrible heartburn, BUT IT WILL BE WORTH IT.)

I hurt EVERYWHERE. And I do mean EVERYWHERE. Places where I didn't realize you could experience pain.

And I would no longer call what I (attempt to) do between the hours of midnight and 9AM "sleeping", I would call it "tossing and turning, and burping up bile, and going to the bathroom every two hours".
My husband, of course, sleeps blissfully unaware through all of it. Although I have been tempted, I haven't killed him yet because he shaves my legs for me, and puts on my socks and shoes, because I haven't been able to reach past my knees for weeks.

To add to the fun, this child has positioned herself in such a way that if I lay on my left side it is like I'm trying to balance all of my body weight on her shoulders, and if I lay on my right side all of my body weight is on her knees. Laying on my back is sort of out of the question because the extra weight I'm carrying will suffocate us both.

Needless to say that the lack of sleep is causing me to do some brilliant things- like pick up a ramekin of roasted garlic, that I had just taken out of my 425 degree oven, with my bare hand.
(The garlic, by the way, was to put on the pizza I had for dinner, because I thought, "HEY, You know what will help my HORRIBLE heart burn? PIZZA. With roasted GARLIC." BRILLIANT.)

I honestly believe that I will sleep better when I'm dealing with a crying, poo-covered, tiny human who will suck the life force out of me through my sore, cracked , boobs.
(For those of you who are tempted to speak up at this point and remind the crazy, ignorant, pregnant lady that I will get even less sleep once the baby arrives, I must remind you that I may be a vegetarian, but I will make an exception for the flesh of stupid people who couldn't keep their mouths shut. AHEM.)

When I started this pregnancy I didn't really like the idea of being induced. I wanted to go into labor naturally. That was before I realized that just when I thought I couldn't be in any more pain or discomfort, I would stumble out of bed every morning in more pain and discomfort than the day before.
Today I'm at the point where if someone told me that smoking crack while suspended under water would help me go into labor, I would start looking for a glass pipe and a pool.

So, that's why when my doctor asked me today if I was free next Tuesday, because she would like to induce me if I haven't already gone into labor on my own, I was like "HELL YES!"

That means that by this time next week, I will be the mother of a human child.

How AWESOME is that?

Something tells me that all of the pain, and suffering, and exhaustion will be worth it.
(This is the point where speaking up and telling me that "Yes! It will be worth it!" would be really helpful and might help me get through today.)

Posted by torrie at 02:09 AM | Permalink | Comments (43)

I just got back from the doctor and I'm 1 cm. dilated and 50% effaced!

Posted by torrie at 01:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (20)

Words I can not hear enough of when uttered by a sonogram technician:

Perfect
Excellent
Just right
Right on target
Beautiful
Spunky

Today I had my 36 weeks sonogram. (I'll be 36 weeks in two days.)
The baby was measuring 5 1/2- 6 lbs (PERFECT!).
The above picture does not do justice to how awesome this ultrasound was. My mother and my husband were there too.
We got to see her face (I burst into tears), her fists, her little feet kicking me in the ribs, her butt, her tummy (so round), and her brain (I may be biased, but it looked big to me).
She even got the hiccups during the ultrasound.
Her umbilical cord is not wrapped around her neck (Mine was and I almost died during my birth).
The placenta and the amniotic fluid looked great.

I am on cloud nine.

Posted by torrie at 09:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (25)

There is a crib in the next room.
And a changing table.
And little tiny baby clothes.
And lots of other baby related gear.

I am 34 weeks and 1 day pregnant.

I just read that if the baby was born today she would have a 99% chance of survival.

I feel her moving all the time and it is awesome.

On July 4th it will be the 10 year anniversary of when I met my husband.
I would say that within six months of meeting him I knew I wanted to have a baby with him.

Now, here we are.

I think we might actually have this baby.

I can't wait to meet her.

Posted by torrie at 01:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (15)

Posted by torrie at 08:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (15)

Yes, I am still alive. I could bore you with tales from the last two weeks about pain, and almost being hospitalized, and more pain, and how I started losing weight, and the chiropractor, and the acupuncturist, and the PAIN, and the pain medication, and the ANNOYING woman who led our hospital tour, but instead I'll regale you with a tale of blood and gore (and stupidity).

Yesterday while my husband was at the gym I took a shower (see, already this is a super exciting story).
When I was finished I couldn't help but notice that the "hedges" were long overdue for a trim.
Now, normally this is not a big deal. I grab a pair of cuticle scissors or my husband's electric beard trimmer and withing a few minutes I'm "manicured", but now, a few days away from being eight months pregnant, I can't see my own crotch.
It is at this point in the story that I must mention that a couple of days earlier my husband had said he would do it for me, because he is awesome like that (he also shaves my legs for me because I can't reach them).
Rather than wait the fifteen minutes or so until my husband came home, I decided it would be a great idea to go on a blind expedition through my bottom system jungle.
So, I sat on the toilet bowl, beard trimmer in hand and started raking away. Things were going fine until- ZZZZzzzzzzzzztttttttttt.
OK, I thought, that hurt a little, but it certainly doesn't mean I should stop. I kept on raking away using the braille method until I happened to notice that there was blood all over the beard trimmer.
Uh oh.
OK, maybe NOW would be a good time to stop hacking around blindly at my crotch.

My husband came home to find me with a sheepish look on my face. When I told him what I'd done he said "for future reference, it's probably not a good idea to jam sharp pointy things(insert- ha! that's funny too-joke here) at your vagina(he uses fancy words like vagina because he's a doctor), especially when you can't see it."
He is so wise.

So, here I sit, with wounded crotch.

I can not even tell you how disconcerting it is to not be able to keep tabs on your own crotch.
I mean, God only knows what's going on down there.

Posted by torrie at 11:31 AM | Permalink | Comments (20)

My doctor thinks I have bronchitis.

No, I am not kidding.

This is day nine of the cold from hell.

It started off as a sore throat and has turned into constant coughing, and spitting up green stuff.

Three times over the past few days I have vomited up stuff that I can only describe as what it might look like if someone put a gremlin in a blender. It's been fun.

My husband finally convinced me to call my doctor today because I'm getting worse instead of better, I haven't gained any weight in the last week and a half, and I can't sleep because I cough all night.

My doctor prescribed antibiotics today.
She's afraid that if I don't get this under control it will turn into pneumonia. Especially since I can't sit up for more than a half an hour at a time because of my rib pain. (I think I forgot to mention that after consulting with two doctors, my physical therapist, and a massage therapist, they are all in agreement that the rib pain is being caused by a pinched nerve in my back. Not much they can do for it. I had my second acupuncture appointment yesterday- have another one tomorrow- we'll see if that works.)

Lesson learned- you can't plan everything and you can't predict how things are going to go.
I thought I would have a great pregnancy (maybe because my mom did).
I didn't think I would be in constant pain. I didn't think I would have to be on modified bed rest.
I certainly didn't think I would take any drugs. I have taken Tylenol, Benadryl (to try to knock me out so I would stop coughing and get some sleep- it didn't work), and now antibiotics.

I guess all of this is good preparation for when the baby arrives and almost nothing goes the way I thought it would.

Posted by torrie at 02:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (20)

Last night I did something in front of my husband that I've never done before in the almost 10 years we've been together.

I peed.

I was not, however, sitting on a toilet at the time.

Let me explain.

I don't go to the bathroom in front of anyone. Not even my own mother.

Last night I was laying on the couch and the husband and I were laughing.

I started laughing so hard that a little pee came out. Which only made me laugh harder. Which made more pee come out.

For the next few minutes I was stuck in a vicious cycle of laughing, and peeing, and gasping for air.

In between gasps of air I managed to choke out "I'm peeing on myself!!!"

This made my husband laugh so hard that he fell on the floor.

A couple of minutes later, with tears streaming down my face, I managed to compose myself.

That's when I realized I had soaked through my underwear onto my pajama pants. A couple of more teaspoons, and I would have officially peed on the couch.

I ran to the bathroom still laughing.

I came out and showed my husband the wet spot on my pajamas, shaking my head in disbelief.

"Well, now you can't say you haven't peed in front of me."

Here's hoping I never poop on the couch.

Posted by torrie at 04:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (15)

One of the things I hope for my child is that she loves reading as much as her father and I do.
Everywhere you look in our apartment there are books and magazines. We are like addicts. We can't get enough. I guess if you're going to be an addict there are worse things to be addicted to than reading.

When I was a child I read constantly. My favorite author was Dr. Seuss.

When I was a nanny my favorite book to read to the children was Goodnight Moon. I can recite it from memory.

As we prepare for the baby and start setting up the nursery I realized that something is missing. We have very few children's books. I would really like to fill the bookcase in the nursery with books before the baby arrives.

That's where you come in.

What were your favorite books when you were a child? If you are a parent, what are your favorite books to read to your child?

Posted by torrie at 11:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (42)

Posted by torrie at 09:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

Had my MRI yesterday. It confirmed that my disk is ruptured. (DUH.)
The good news is that there is still enough space in my spinal canal to get an epidural while I'm in labor. (Thank GOD.)

I also had an ultrasound yesterday to rule out gallstones.
The good news- no gallstones.
The bad news- still no idea what's causing the rib pain.

My next door neighbor told me his sister-in-law had the same horrible rib pain that I'm having and that it started around the same time (six months).
I asked him if her pain ever got better and he said "Yeah, at about 35 weeks."

Oh goody. Only 8 more weeks of non-stop torturous pain.

I'm sorry that this is all I've been writing about lately, but the pain is causing me to have an even more difficult time than usual stringing together coherent sentences.

I will try to write something interesting (and perhaps non-pregnancy related) soon.

Posted by torrie at 05:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

So, my back is bad. Really bad. But you knew that already. And I've been having EXCRUCIATING rib pain, but that's a whole other story.

So, my OB wanted me to see my spine specialist and have an MRI. She also wants me to meet with the head of the OB Anesthesia department at the hospital where I am giving birth.

So, about SIX WEEKS ago I called my spine doctor to make an appointment and I found out he doesn't take my insurance anymore. (I would like to point out that it is the same insurance that he uses for HIMSELF- he works at the same hospital as my husband.)

So, I began my search for another spine doctor. That was fun.
Most of them don't take insurance. (I'm sorry, but how many people out there are actually paying out of pocket to go to the doctor???)
I finally found someone. The first available appointment was for February 21st. Yes, I told them that I was pregnant and in pain. They don't care.

So, I went to my OB yesterday (regular check-up) and she asked me if I had gotten an MRI yet.
I realized that it's silly for me to go to the spine doctor on the 21st, THEN have him order an MRI. It makes much more sense for me to have the MRI first, so that when I show up we can discuss the results. Because otherwise, I will go to the spine doctor, he'll order the MRI, I'll have to wait a week for an MRI appointment, and then god knows how long for another appointment with the spine doctor.
Also, I can't meet with the OB Anesthesia doctor until I have the MRI.

So, I call the spine doctor's office and explain all of this to the secretary and she was all "That's not how he does things. He'll want to see you first"
And I (very nicely) said "I understand that's how he usually does things, but I was hoping he could make an exception because I'm pregnant, in a lot of pain, and my husband is a resident at the hospital. Also, I can't meet with the OB Anesthesia doctor until I have the MRI."

(I forgot to mention to you- I mentioned this to the secretary- that the new spine doctor works ACROSS THE HALL from the old spine doctor and could very easily access my file.)

The secretary started to get all huffy and rude with me. (I can't WAIT to meet her!)

So, I said "You don't have to lose your patience and be rude, I'm in a lot of pain and I'M PREGNANT."

And then I realized I wasn't going to get anywhere with her, so I asked her to have the doctor call me- which she LOVED. (Because I don't see how any doctor in their right mind, after I explain the situation, wouldn't be willing to let me get an MRI.)

So, do you think the doctor will actually call me?

I'm not holding my breath.

Posted by torrie at 12:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (13)

This picture is part of a new photo series I'm doing called "The realities of pregnancy and motherhood".

Don't get me wrong- I'm thrilled to be pregnant- I just feel like most people aren't honest about what it's REALLY like to be pregnant, or to be a mother.

I'm curious-

What surprised you most about pregnancy and /or motherhood?

You don't have to have been pregnant or a mother to answer this question- if you've never been pregnant, or a mother, but watched someone else go through it, what surprised you most?

Posted by torrie at 10:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (35)

As some of you have already noticed, I have put a new poll in the left sidebar asking whether or not you think the baby will arrive on time.
So far 6 people have voted and of those 6 people 5 have said that the baby will be late.
(* I wonder if you all are saying that because my belly looks small for six months? I'll have you know that at our last sonogram the baby was measuring 79th percentile for her "age" and on Tuesday the doctor said my fundus was measuring high for 24 weeks.)

That is so NOT FUNNY people.

I have mentioned, but haven't gone into detail, about my back problems.
Things have gotten really bad.

I am in constant pain. Sitting hurts. Standing hurts. Sleeping (or TRYING to) hurts. We thought my back would be bad while I was pregnant, but we just didn't think it would get this bad this soon. My due date is May 24th, which means I have almost 4 MONTHS left (if I deliver on time) because pregnancy IS NOT 9 months, it's 40 WEEKS. Which is why when I saw that 5 of you think I'm going to deliver this baby past my due date I almost threw myself out the window.

Per my doctor's orders I am not allowed to do most things. No laundry, no dishes, nothing that involves bending over, and nothing that involves lifting more than five pounds. And no more yoga.
Some of you might think that sounds fabulous, but the problem is I REALLY like my husband.
So, while most of you might enjoy getting to sit around and do nothing all day, it just makes me feel guilty. My husband works on average at least 12 hours a day. Then, he comes home and has to do the chores while I sit on my fat ass and watch. I feel helpless and useless. He, of course, has been wonderfully supportive, and never complains, which only makes me feel worse.
Life would be a lot easier if he was a dick.

Also, I am having the nesting instinct. I look around at my very cluttered apartment and I want to clean it and organize it, but I'm not allowed.

Also, I am exhausted. These days "sleeping" consists of me tossing and turning all night while my back, ribs and hips throb. On Monday night I actually got a little bit of sleep because I let myself sleep on my back. I woke up on Tuesday and I almost passed out. Nothing I did made the dizziness go away. I went to the doctor and after they made sure that the baby was OK they concluded that I was dizzy because I slept on my back. So, no more back sleeping for me. Which basically means no more sleeping for me.
That whole "catch up on your sleep before the baby comes" thing is not going to happen.

Also, I am a fucking hippie, so I refuse to take any medication for my pain while I am pregnant.
I hate that about myself. This pregnancy would be so much more enjoyable if I would just eat some fucking Pepperidge Farms cookies and pop some vicoden.

Also, hold onto your hats because this is a groundbreaking statement, INSURANCE COMPANIES SUCK ASS. They do not cover acupuncture UNLESS you are having pregnancy related nausea.
So, I am thinking of making the appointment with the acupuncturist and hoping she will join me in giving my insurance company the middle finger, and stick the needles into the places that help back pain instead of the places that help nausea.

The insurance company has, however, found it in their heart to let me go to physical therapy twice a week. I still pay a $20 co-pay for each visit, and of course massage isn't covered, but it's the only thing keeping me alive right now.

Also, I had this idea that my husband and I would really live it up and be social until the baby comes. NOT SO MUCH. We went to a party on Friday night. We were there for only two hours. I was in pain the whole time. It took all of my strength just to sit there and try to make small talk with people through gritted teeth. Going to the movies has also become torture because it is nearly impossible for me to stay in the same position for more than 15 minutes. I went to the Martha Stewart show yesterday. Between the waiting and the actual filming I spent about 3 hours sitting in a horrible, uncomfortable wooden chair. You would think that Martha Stewart would have some pillows all up in that bitch, but NOOooooo.
It was NOT a good thing.

I have received several emails and comments from well meaning people giving me suggestions for my back, so i just want to clear up a few things:

I have tried the following things to help my back pain-

A body pillow
Several other pillows
Ice
Heat
Yoga
Walking
Stretching
Deep breathing/ meditation
Physical therapy
Banging my head against the wall
(I have ordered, but have not yet received an exercise ball to sit on, and a snoogle.)

Nothing is working. This is not typical pregnancy related back pain- this is a ruptured disk.
So, I think I'm stuck with it. I'm trying to come to terms with the fact that I will be in constant pain until the baby comes.
The only thing I ask of you is that you let me complain. It's one of the few things left that I'm actually allowed to do, and damn I'm good at it.

Posted by torrie at 06:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (23)

Last night I took off my pants and when I looked down I realized I couldn't tell if I was wearing underwear or not.

I can't see my own crotch anymore.

On the bright side- at least I can still see other people's crotches.

Posted by torrie at 05:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (16)

It's completely irrational. I know that. That doesn't mean I can stop.

I'm worried about the baby.

Sometimes it consumes me.

Today my husband and I were having tea and doing a crossword at a nice little cafe and I had to ruin it by bursting into tears.

I worry that those aren't really kicks I'm feeling. That they're just gas bubbles.

I worry because I can't hear her heartbeat with my husband's stethoscope, even though I can barely hear my own.

I worry that because I am leaking colostrum that I will go into preterm labor.

Every test I've had- blood, urine, sonogram- has been "perfect". The doctors and nurses keep using the word "perfect". And yet, I still worry.

I like to write how many weeks along I am on my calender so that when I'm making plans I'll know how far along I will be. I'm scared to write out the weeks- 24, 25, 26, etc.- because the first time I did that ,and after I lost the baby every time I looked at the calender I was reminded of how far along I would have been.

I spoke to a friend recently who told me that she only had one sonogram her entire pregnancy.
I've already had five and I'll probably have a couple of more before the pregnancy is over. Each time they tell me everything looks great. "Perfect".
But I keep worrying that there will be no heartbeat.
I was just at the doctor a week ago. She did a quick doppler to listen to the heartbeat. It sounded great. But I can't wait until I hear it again (my next appointment isn't until February 13th).

I've mentioned my anxiety about the heartbeat before and some of you have suggested I rent a doppler. I don't want to do that. I feel like I would only be feeding my anxiety. As it is I'm constantly trying to hear the heartbeat with the stethoscope. It's a good thing my husband takes it to work with him every day, otherwise I'd probably obsessively have the thing stuck in my ears all day long.

Something else that is adding to my stress is that February is right around the corner.
It is a notoriously bad month for me. We lost the first pregnancy in February. My dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer in February. A good friend's dad died in February. And lots of other horrible things have occurred in the month of February.
So, you can understand why my chest tightens a little every time I look at the calender.

I'll be holding my breath until I (hopefully) hear the baby's heart beat at my next doctor's appointment.

Until then, I will be counting the days and trying to silence the demons.

Posted by torrie at 05:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (22)

I have much better posts than this one to write, but I am lazy. Instead, enjoy this poorly written post riddled with bad grammar.

So, without further ado, here is a list of things that have happened in the last week (in no particular order).

- My back has gotten increasingly bad. Walking used to be the only thing that made it feel better, and now that hurts too, so I'm basically screwed.

-We had our 20 week anatomy ultrasound. It was mostly awesome. Except for the part where the baby was breech and totally would not cooperate and they kept making me move from side to side, and then they made me walk around and eat ice cream, and after all that the baby was still breech. So, 4 different sonogram technicians poked and prodded my belly trying to measure various parts of the baby.
There was one part where the baby was kicking me, and I mean REALLY kicking me. Like get this fucking uterus off my feet/ kung foo fighting kicking me and even the sonogram technician whose job it is to look at babies in the womb ALL DAY was like "WHOA, that kid is really kicking you" and I'm thinking that when I can REALLY feel her kick (right now I only feel flutters) this is not going to be as cute.
After two hours, when we were on our fourth sonogram technician, the only thing left to do was take some measurements of the baby's profile. That was right about the time the baby decided to nuzzle her face into the placenta so we couldn't see a god damn thing. I fear that this baby is just like me.

- I was going to drive the animals to my mom's house by myself on Friday because we were going to be leaving for vacation at 5AM on Saturday, but the husband concluded that there was no way with my bad back that I was going to be able to load all the animals and their crap into the car by myself and then drive 4 hours (especially knowing that I was going to have to sit on a plane for six hours on Saturday). So, he made the executive decision that after the sonogram on Thursday he would drive to my mom's.
Because the sonogram took so long we didn't even get on the road until 6:45pm, so we didn't get home until 11:30 PM. The husband had to get up at 5 the next morning.
When we got back, the husband couldn't find his wallet anywhere. Which was just what we needed to be dealing with after such an emotionally exhausting day. We concluded that the only time he had taken his wallet out was when we stopped for gas (about an hour into our 4 +hour round trip). So, I spent 10 minutes on the phone with directory assistance trying to figure out the phone number of the gas station.
I finally got the number, and miraculously they had found the wallet.
However that meant that I was going to have to drive 2+ hours round trip on Friday to pick up the wallet which kind of defeated the purpose of the husband driving me the night before.
I was complaining about all of this to Heather over IM on Friday morning when she offered to drive me. Seriously. It's things like this that make me realize that I have hit the friend jackpot.
So, she drove me. And I picked up the wallet. And everything was still in it.

- We left for our vacation at 5AM on Saturday. At the security check at the airport I got pulled aside to be screened. The woman was wanding me and there wasn't even a beep and she said to me "why did he pull you aside?" and I said "I don't know, maybe because I'm pregnant" and so she asked him and sure enough he said he pulled me aside because he wanted to make sure I wasn't smuggling anything under my shirt. The woman, who was his superior, got really pissed and said "she's pregnant, you idiot".

-We used all of our frequent flier miles to fly first class because we figured it would be easier on my back. Boy, were we wrong. They didn't have any pillows, so I had to use 4 blankets to support my back. One of flight attendants was rude to me, there was hardly any leg room, and the food sucked.
So NOT worth it.

-We are in Utah. We're up in the mountains right above Salt Lake City. The husband is skiing while I sit around the lodge on my fat ass all day.

-Utah is BEAUTIFUL, but DRY. Really DRY.
I have never consumed so much water in my life.
Also, my nose is all dry and crusted, and bloody. I'm seriously considering shoving some of my moisturizer up there.

-Yesterday I leaked colostrum all over my husband's T-shirt.
I can't believe this is already happening. I thought that wouldn't happen until after I give birth.
I keep thinking if I'm leaking this much now, imagine how much I will leak once my milk actually comes in. I wonder what kind of trajectory these bad boys will have.

-Flickr has something against me and it won't let me upload any of my pictures from my laptop.

-People ski entirely too fast.

Posted by torrie at 11:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (11)

My back has been killing me lately. I mean really killing me.
Not the "I'm pregnant and my back is sore" kind of killing me, but the "Every time I bend over it feels like someone is stabbing me. Please kill me now." kind.
My doctor sent me to physical therapy (AGAIN).
Yesterday was my first appointment.
The therapist confirmed what I was fearing- I have re-ruptured my disk.
FUN.
I expected to have back problems while I was pregnant, I was just hoping they wouldn't be this bad this soon.
I'm already having a lot of trouble sleeping and I'm only halfway there. My physical therapist was kind enough to tell me that my sleeping situation will only get worse as my pregnancy progresses.
GREAT.
Also, I was scheduled for my pre-natal yoga class yesterday. I was looking forward to it because I thought maybe it would make my back feel better. I stood outside the locked studio, in the cold, for 25 minutes waiting for the instructor, but he never showed up.
AWESOME.
Oh, and the therapist told me that I can't do half of the yoga moves I've been doing anymore. And I can't lift any weights except for 5lb. dumbells.
I had this vision of me being one of those toned, in-shape pregnant chicks. Apparently that's not going to happen.

I just hope that my back doesn't get so bad that I have to go on bed rest.

Posted by torrie at 11:27 AM | Permalink | Comments (10)

When someone callls you to tell you that they just found out they are having a girl the first words out of your mouth should not be "Oh, I was hoping you would have a boy".

Posted by torrie at 11:09 AM | Permalink | Comments (14)

IT'S A GIRL!!!!!!!!!!!

Or at least that's what my doctor thinks. The baby would not stop moving around. Her little arms and legs were flailing around. We are having another sonogram in two weeks and they will confirm it.

Of course my email is not working. So I can't email anyone to tell them.

Posted by torrie at 05:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (29)

Tomorrow we are having a sonogram to find out the baby's sex.

I am so excited.

I am also nervous, because this will be the first sonogram I've had in six weeks. My breath will be held until I hear a beating heart. Although, if this bump is any indication, things are fine.

As most of you have noticed there is a poll for guessing the baby's sex in the left sidebar.
It's your last chance to vote!

Posted by torrie at 11:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (10)

Check it out:

I totally have a bump!

Wait.

Why are you laughing?

Shut up! It totally IS a bump.

Maybe next week I'll take some bump pictures with my belly covered because then you can really notice the bump (and then maybe all those fucking perverts will stop favoriting my belly pictures on Flickr).

Also, I don't think I wrote about this, but I was having trouble eating enough. I hadn't gained any weight in about three weeks and I had only gained 3lbs total.
Well, sooooo not a problem anymore. I've gained 3 lbs in the last week and a half and I'm eating ALL THE TIME.
Really.
I have a friend I keep wanting to call, and I realized today that the reason I haven't found time in the past couple of days to call her, is because every time I think of it I'm eating something and I don't want to chew in her ear.
I might need to make an exception to the it's not polite to chew in someone's ear rule, otherwise I might never talk to anyone on the phone again until I give birth.

I want to slap the me from two weeks ago who was all "I can't eat enough! Whaa whaa whaa!"

And I'm sure 40 week me will want to say to me from two weeks ago "Remember when you were all where's my bump? Well here's your fucking bump! Happy?!"

Posted by torrie at 01:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (12)

Here's the thing:

I'm still nervous about this pregnancy.

I know that I'm out of my first trimester (I'm in my 15th week), and that the chance of anything going wrong is slim, but I still worry.

I fret over every little abdominal ache or pain (and there are a lot these days).

Every time I pee I check to make sure there isn't any blood.

Considering what happened before, I think I am dealing pretty well, but I'm starting to think maybe Tom Cruise wasn't so crazy for wanting a sonogram machine in his house.

I had a sonogram at twelve weeks, and I'm not scheduled to have another one until 18 weeks. That's SIX WEEKS without hearing the baby's heartbeat. So, yesterday I caved. I called my doctor and asked her if when I come in on Friday for my blood work, she wouldn't mind doing a doppler. She was so understanding about it. So, hopefully we'll hear the baby's heartbeat on Friday. Then, maybe I can relax a little.
Although, I don't think I'll ever really relax until I'm holding a healthy baby.

I know I'm being a drama queen- my mother didn't even have one sonogram- but my first two experiences have obviously traumatized me.

I'm wondering if other woman who've had pregnancy losses or problems conceiving feel the same way.

Posted by torrie at 11:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (23)

So, whenever we have an OB appoinment we take a cab there and then walk home.
Before we leave for the doctor's office I make sure my bits are all nice and clean- hair trimmed- smelling fresh as a meadow. If we walked the 2 miles to the office, my area might resemble more of a swamp than a meadow. Being that I grew up in New York I am physically incapable of walking slow. As New Yorkers we must always rush, even if we are not in a hurry,
So, my point is- walking fast=sweat.
Sweat= Not such a pleasant situation down below.
My OB is my favorite doctor of all time. I'd rather not offend her with a crotch that smells like a gym locker, so we take a cab.
Yesterday we had an OB appointment (everything was perfect. we heard the baby's heart beat!). In the cab on the way there I started hearing what sounded like the cabbie was popping gum. I HATE gum popping. Almost as much as I hate whistling.
But then I caught something shiny and metal out of the corner of my eye. I bent forward to get a closer look and that's when I realized- HE WAS CLIPPING HIS NAILS WHILE DRIVING.
Now, I don't even like to be in the same house when someone clips their nails, let alone trapped in a motor vehicle with them (WHILE THEY ARE DRIVING). Suddenly gum popping didn't seem so bad.
We got out of the cab and I stood on the sidewalk and dry heaved for a while.
I had nightmare's about it last night.
I guess you could say we were lucky that he wasn't clipping his toenails.

Posted by torrie at 11:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (13)

The baby is "perfect"!
The baby is "perfect"!

Maybe we are actually going to have this baby!

All this AND Britney files for divorce from K-Fed, the democrats kick the republicans' ass, AND Donald Rumsfeld resigns!?

Oh happy day!

Did I mention that they said the baby looks "perfect"?

Here's a picture of the baby sucking its thumb:

To see a couple of more sonogram pictures check out my Flickr page.

Posted by torrie at 10:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (25)

Today we have our nuchal translucency sonogram.
I am so nervous. I just want it to be over with. If all goes well, on Friday I will be starting my second trimester.
To be honest I think that what happened during the first pregnancy is making me paranoid.

I don't know if I'll be able to handle it if we get bad news today.

Posted by torrie at 11:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (14)

I may, or may not have used my baking scale to weigh my boobs.

Posted by torrie at 11:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (15)

Tracy made this picture for me.
(The picture was too wide to post here, so you'll have to click on the link.)

If you don't get it, watch this.

Posted by torrie at 09:51 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I went to the docotor today because I was having some shooting pains.
It turns out that the pain was just from my uterus expanding so rapidly.
I had an awesome sonogram. The baby was moving around and the heartbeat was strong.

If you click on the picture you'll see notes explaining what you're looking at.
This is the farthest I've ever gotten in a pregnancy.

Posted by torrie at 04:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (19)

If you are pregnant (especially if you have lost previous pregnancies) it is NOT a good idea to read an article about C-section rates, forcep use, and infant mortality right before you go to sleep.

Posted by torrie at 12:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (12)

Posted by torrie at 06:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (16)

1) I'm leaving for Chicago on Thursday. The husband has a conference, so I'm tagging along.
If you've ever been to chicago I'd love some suggestions on places to go, things to see, and restaurants (keeping in mind that we are vegetarians).

2) We have our next sonogram this afternoon. Last time all of your good vibes seemed to work, so please send some more this way.

Posted by torrie at 09:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (15)

The sonogram was perfect!

Baby had a strong heart beat!

Posted by torrie at 05:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (13)

We saw the flickering of a tiny heart!

Thank you for all of your good vibes!

Posted by torrie at 07:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (25)

Today is our first sonogram (for this pregnancy).

Please send good vibes our way.

Posted by torrie at 09:30 AM | Permalink | Comments (12)

-A protein shake made with an organic banana, organic vanilla yogurt, organic rice milk, organic flax seed oil, and protein powder
-Two bowls of organic whole wheat cereal with rice milk
-Organic baked wheat and flaxseed crackers
-Two slices of organic American cheese
-Organic vegetable broth with organic veggie alphabet noodles
-Two organic apples
-Baked snap pea crisps
-An organic strawberry breakfast bar
-Organic cashews
-Brown rice pilaf with organic vegetable lentil soup on top
-Half a thin crust cheese pizza
-Several glasses of organic OJ
-Organic hot chocolate

Finally, I broke down last night and I had a Three Muketeer's bar. Believe it or not THAT is what the demon spawn wanted. I actually went to bed last night without feeling hungry.
Here I am trying to eat healthy, organic stuff, and the only thing that satisfied me was something with artificial flavors and colors. Go figure.

Posted by torrie at 09:51 AM | Permalink | Comments (23)

So, I'm hungry.

REALLY hungry.

I know you think you understand, but you don't.

I have never been this hungry in my life. It's a different kind of hunger. It's not the type that you can ignore. It demands attention. Like, NOW. And I go from being not hungry, to if I don't eat now I'm going to chew my own arm off, in 60 seconds flat.

I feel like my body is being held hostage.
"Just give us what we want and nobody gets hurt"
"But I don't have any Three Musketeer bars"
"Well, you better find a way to get some OR EVERYBODY DIES!"

My favorite part is when I'm eating something, actually shoveling food into my mouth,and I'm still ravenous.
It's like my brain doesn't realize that I'm eating.

I'm almost never satisfied and even when I am, I'm hungry again an hour later.

I'm just going to say this out loud with the hope that if I do, it can't possibly be true:

I better not be having twins.

Posted by torrie at 11:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (11)

I spoke to my doctor yesterday and she said my HCG and Progesterone levels were "perfect" (If not a little high)!
(For those of you who don't understand what the hell I'm talking about- my blood test was "perfect")

I'm trying not to get my hopes up, but YAY!

My fingers and toes are starting to cramp from all the crossing.

Posted by torrie at 11:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (14)

This is the reason why

-My arms look like this
-I can't go to Stanley
-I just ate crackers for breakfast
-I refuse to get a manicure even though I could really use one
-I am so hungry that if I don't get food NOW I will kill everyone within a three block radius
-I burst into tears over how in love I am with my husband
-I am apprehensively happy

Posted by torrie at 11:40 AM | Permalink | Comments (25)

Today is my last day in my twenties.

In my twenties I have:

- Met, fell in love with, and married my husband.
- Graduated from culinary school, worked my way up to executive pastry chef, and won a gold medal at a culinary competition
- Had three surgeries, including a career ending shoulder surgery.
- Adopted Dexter, Mookie, and Itsy.
- Lost my beloved Grandmother.
- Had two of my photographs published in The New York Times.
- Made many great friends.
- Left my comfort zone and moved to a new city.
- Been pregnant twice and lost both pregnancies.
- Found out my father has terminal cancer.
- Started eating better.
- Gained 27 pounds.
- Lost 8 of those pounds.
- Discovered and fell in love with the internet.
- Read too many books to count.
- Had LOTS of sex.
- Learned a lot about myself.
- Stopped letting people walk all over me.
- Became a brunette.
- Almost come to terms with my nose.
- Learned a lot about myself.

It's funny; I use to think I needed to accomplish everything by the time I turned 30. Now that 30 is here, in some ways, I feel like my life is just beginning.

I'm excited to see what's in store for my thirties.

Posted by torrie at 11:57 AM | Permalink | Comments (21)

The Mets game last night was so bad that it physically made me sick.

I even had baseball related nightmares.

On a brighter note-
I have my first of three personal training sessions today.
I refuse to start trying to have a baby again until I get in shape/loose some weight.

I saw The Devil Wears Prada yesterday. It was cute, but it's the kind of movie that you can wait to see on video.

We are going away this weekend because my husband has a concert in the Berkshires (in addition to being a doctor, he's also a musician).
The following FIVE weekends he's on call, then the third and fourth weekend in August we have plans (for my 30th birthday). THEN, the summer is OVER.
This SUCKS.

Oh, and last but not least- WATERMELON IS AWESOME.

(I'm sure right now you're asking yourself "why in the name of all that is holy, do I read this blog?" I don't have an answer for you because I don't quite get why you read this blog either.)

Posted by torrie at 09:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (10)

Sometimes I stand in front of the mirror and push my belly out so that I look pregnant.
I also like to rub my fake pregnant belly.

Wishful thinking, I guess.

I also will occasionally think to myself "If I hadn't lost the first baby I'd be X weeks pregnant now, and if I hadn't lost the second baby I'd be X weeks pregnant now".

I know that's not particularly healthy, but It's the reality of the situation.

Posted by torrie at 04:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (12)

I'm depressed.

There. I said it.

The only dreams I remember when I wake up are the bad ones. Or maybe I'm only having the bad ones.

I'm disappointed in myself. My procrastination. My avoidance.

I did virtually nothing productive today. I should have done laundry. But I didn't. And so, there I was at midnight, loading the dishwasher, so I could go to bed without feeling completely useless.

My poor husband is still at work. He's been at work since 6:30 this morning. And I can't even get the fucking laundry done. He'll come home to a pile of laundry and a messy apartment. He won't have any clean underwear. He doesn't deserve that. He deserves better. A better wife. If I'm not going to make any money the least I could do is some fucking laundry.

I have a to-do list a mile long. But instead of trying to get stuff done and mark things off the list, I just ignore it completely.

I watch crappy movies, Little House on the Prairie, and several episodes of Sex in the City.
I fuck around on the computer, but my eyes just glaze over. I don't even have the stamina to read blogs.

I can't stop worrying about things. EVERY SECOND OF EVERY DAY.

Will I ever have a baby?

Will I have to have surgery?

Will I ever have a pain free day?

What will happen to my father?

How can I make some money?

The list goes on and on.

I'm also hating myself. I'm never satisfied. I HATE that.

I have no idea how long this bout with depression will last. Sometimes it's months, sometimes it's days.
I hope it's the latter.

I'm so overwhelmed.

Posted by torrie at 12:15 AM | Permalink | Comments (13)

Yesterday was a tough day.

I was hoping I would be pregnant on Mothers' Day.

I know it's just a Hallmark Holiday concocted to sell cards and gifts, but when you're not pregnant, and you want to be, it makes you feel useless and awkward.

It wasn't just a bad day because it was Mothers Day- I also threw my back out, so I took codeine and then had brunch with my in-laws, where my mother-in-law decided to lecture us on our finances, or lack thereof. As in, you don't have any money, and you're never going to be able to afford to buy a house/apartment. What a great conversation to have while you're stoned. I would have preferred to talk about chocolate, or cookies, or chocolate cookies.

I also decided yesterday would be a great day to go to Babies R Us and buy my cousin's baby shower gift. Don't get me wrong, I'm very happy for my cousin, but standing in a baby super store on Mother's Day, childless, surrounded by all of the cute baby clothes and toys was not the best idea I've ever had.

I hope you had a better day than I did.

Posted by torrie at 09:31 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

I went to the doctor today.
After sticking various accoutrements up my hoo-ha, she determined that the cyst that was 5cm a little more than a week ago is now 7cm.
It is just sitting right there, pressing against my bladder, mocking me.
The best part of the visit was when my doctor was all "You're not traveling anytime soon, are you?"
And I was all "Um, I'm leaving on a 9-day trip a week from Saturday."
And she was all "Well, because now we have to be concerned about ovarian torsion."
At which point I just laughed because my other option was crying and I've had enough of that.
She said as long as I would have access to major hospitals (I will- I'll be visiting Boston, Montreal, and New Hampshire) she would be fine with me traveling. BUT, if I suddenly develop extreme abdominal pain to go to an ER immediately because I might need emergency surgery. AWESOME.
If this cyst isn't gone in six weeks it looks like I'll be having surgery. FUN!
Oh, and I had tried to look on the bright side when I had this latest miscarriage- since I had to wait three months before we were allowed to try again, I was going to work out and get in the best shape of my life.
Yeah, not so much. The doctor told me I can only do "light" exercise.
Do you think sitting on my couch, eating ice cream sandwiches counts?

As I'm typing this I just realized that I've been wearing my pajama pants inside-out for the past 6 hours.

Posted by torrie at 11:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (10)

I'm done.

I don't want to be an adult anymore.

Even being a teenager, as painful as that was, would be preferable.

I want to worry about whether or not the boy I have a crush on will be in the pizza parlor during the same lunch period as me.

I want to worry about what color laces to get for my Doc Martens.

I want to worry about whether or not I will be invited to the party at the popular girl's house.

I don't want all of these adult responsibilities.

I want to worry about when I'll get my first period, not that the blood coming out of me is a loss of life.

I want to worry about what I got on my math test, not whether or not my father's tumors are growing.

I want to worry about whether or not I'll pass my drivers license test, not whether or not I can afford the repairs my car needs.

And, if I do, SOMEHOW, finally come to terms with being an adult, I want it to be fun.

Where's the fun?

And I want the fact that I'm married to the love of my life to overshadow all of the bad stuff.
Why can't love be enough for me?

I want to be one of those people who finds the silver lining and looks on the bright side.

I want to travel to the farthest corner of the earth and hide from it all.

The problem is, no matter where I go, I can't escape my feelings, or my heavy heart.

Posted by torrie at 10:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (16)

In order for you to understand what I've been through in the past 48 hours I need to start the story at the beginning....

When the husband and I decided we were ready to start trying to have a baby soon, I went to an OB for a pre-pregnancy checkup. We'll call this doctor "Doctor A".
I REALLY liked Doctor A. She was very calm and soothing which was a good match for me considering how high strung I am.
Then I became pregnant (three months after we started trying) and I called Doctor A's office to make an appointment and was told that Doctor A was pregnant, had a complication, and was on bed rest and wouldn't be back in the office for several months. I became a patient of another doctor in the same practice. We'll call this doctor "Doctor B".
I liked Doctor B. She was not as calm as Doctor A, but she was nice, and her daughter was vegetarian, so she understood my diet. Doctor B was the one who gave me the sonogram when we found out the baby had no heartbeat.
I had the D&C (surgery to remove the baby) and was told (by Doctor B) to wait until I got my period once and then we could start trying again.
That's what we did. And we got pregnant on the first try.

But from the moment I found out I was pregnant two weeks ago I felt like something wasn't right. I can't really explain it. I tried not to think about it because I couldn't tell if my feelings were real or if they were just paranoia because of what happened with the first pregnancy. I even bought three boxes of pregnancy tests- all different kinds- for a total of SEVEN tests. I took all seven of them over a 48 period and they all said positive, including the digital ones.
So, I tried not to listen to the nagging feeling that something was wrong.
One of my best friends got married this past Saturday night, and I made the cake. I worked on the cake Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, and then I went to the wedding on Saturday.
I'm so glad that this didn't happen until Sunday.
As I said in the previous post I woke up with a bad feeling on Sunday and by 3pm I was in the emergency room.
I wasn't actively bleeding, but I was having cramping.
They performed an ultrasound and said they couldn't see anything because my bladder was full, so I went to the bathroom and they repeated the ultrasound. They said my bladder was still full and they still couldn't see anything (even though I had JUST peed). The husband questioned them about this and they just shrugged it off.
The conclusion the doctors in the ER came up with was that I had had a chemical pregnancy and I was now having my period. They told me to call my doctor's office in the morning.
I burst into tears because I felt like an idiot for going to the ER for my PERIOD. I was also upset because I really didn't feel like this was my period. For the next 20 hours or so I had NO BLOOD.
I called my doctor's office Monday morning and spoke to the nurse. She said the people in the ER were a bunch of idiots and that in 1/4 of all pregnancies there is some bleeding, so I shouldn't lose all hope. She told me to come in tomorrow (Tuesday) to see the doctor and have my blood drawn so they could test my HCG level.
I wanted to kill her for giving me false hope because I knew I was going to miscarry. Sure enough a little while after I hung up the phone, I started passing clots.
Today (Tuesday) I went to the doctor's office. The nurse put us in a conference room and told us the doctor would be right in. I was expecting Doctor B, but in walked Doctor A. As luck would have it she had just returned from maternity leave yesterday. She did a pelvic exam and confirmed that I was, in fact, having a miscarriage. She tried to do an ultrasound and said the same thing the ER doctors had said to me "Your bladder is too full". The husband and I explained that I had just gone to the bathroom and that we had the same problem in the ER. She had this look on her face like a light bulb had gone off. She started to take some measurements on the ultrasound screen and found out that I had a good sized cyst on my ovary (AGAIN) that was pressing on my bladder. I had been feeling extremely bloated lately. I had even told the husband that it felt like There was an over filled balloon in my abdomen and that I felt like I wanted to stick a needle in it to let all of the air out . I asked the doctor if the cyst could be causing my bloating she said "Absolutely, it can make you feel like you have an overfilled water balloon inside of you".
At least I had an explanation for that.
After reviewing my chart Doctor A told us some very interesting stuff.
Apparently the first pregnancy might have been a partial molar pregnancy. After you have a molar pregnancy your HCG levels are supposed to be monitored. You are not supposed to try to get pregnant again until your HCG levels reach zero. Molar pregnancies can cause your HCG levels to become abnormally high which means that even if you get your period you might still have elevated HCG levels. Doctor B never did a follow up with me and never tested my HCG levels. Also, it is recommended that you wait AT LEAST two cycles (after a molar pregnancy or a miscarriage) before you start trying to get pregnant again. Doctor B told us we could start trying after my first period.
Basically, Doctor B fucked up big time. Doctor A said that this pregnancy probably got messed up because it was too soon after the first pregnancy and my HCG levels probably never were at zero. If we had waited another month everything probably would have been fine.
If my husband didn't work at the same hospital and if Doctor B wasn't in the same practice as Doctor A (who will be my doctor from now on)we would SERIOUSLY consider suing.
I now have to wait another three months before I can start trying again.
I'm SO FUCKING FRUSTRATED, especially because if I had had the proper care, this probably wouldn't have happened.

As for the cyst, I will have another ultrasound next week. They will continue to monitor the cyst and if it doesn't shrink they might have to perform surgery to remove it.
I'm really hoping that I don't have to have surgery (again). Between me, my father, and my inlaws, my husband and I have endured THIRTEEN surgeries in the past three years. I think we've reached our quota.

I know there are people in the world who are worse off than me, but I can't help but feel like the universe is taking a gigantic crap on me.

*I apologize if this post has typos and is all over the place. It's 12:17 in the morning and I'm EXHAUSTED.

*Update: The Sarcastic Journalist wrote a post about miscarriage for Blogging Baby. She was nice enough to ask me if I would mind if she wrote the article, and she listened to what I had to say on the subject. Read the article here.

Posted by torrie at 07:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (29)

I spent several hours in the emergency room yesterday.

I was/am five weeks pregnant.

Yesterday I woke up with a horrible feeling.

I even said to my husband "I'm scared I'm going to have a miscarriage today. If I can just get through today, then I'll be OK."

Sure enough, at about 2pm, I peed and there was bright red blood.

I came out of the bathroom and said to my husband "OK, it's time to go to the hospital."
He couldn't believe that I had known.

To make a long story short-
I either had a chemical pregnancy, which is when the egg is fertilized but never fully implants in the uterus, or I am having a miscarriage.
I have to go to the doctor either today or tomorrow for some more testing.

I'm so angry. I'm angry at the universe (haven't I been through enough?) and angry at myself for getting excited about being pregnant, again.

I'm so exhausted, but I'm trying to soldier on because the alternative is me falling into a deep depression.

I am making a promise right now to you, my husband, and myself, that I will do whatever it takes to fight the depression.

Posted by torrie at 09:43 AM | Permalink | Comments (38)

I just got back from the gym because I'm trying to get in shape and be all healthy because it's time to start trying to make a baby, AGAIN.

On the way there, I passed a crazy (that's what us New Yorkers call a person who paces back and forth on the street talking to themselves) who said the following:

"THAT'S MY FUCKING GARBAGE CAN! THE ONLY PERSON WHO EATS OUT OF THAT GARBAGE CAN IS ME! THAT. IS. MY. FUCKING. GARBAGE. CAN."

That lovely statement was then followed by some incoherent rambling.

You can't make shit as awesome as that up.

I love New York.

Posted by torrie at 05:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

You know what sucks?
If/when I get pregnant again, every time I speak to a nurse or have a sonogram they'll ask "is this your first pregnancy?"
and I'll have to say "no". And then they might try to make casual conversation and say "Oh, how old is your first child?" and then I'll have to explain that I lost the first baby.

For me being pregnant and then losing the baby was like someone having a favorite band who they've always wanted to see in concert, and they finally gets tickets to their concert, and then on the way to the concert they get a flat tire and MISS THE CONCERT.

I had a life long dream in arms reach and then it was gone.

Posted by torrie at 12:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (17)

We got the results back today on the genetic testing that was done on the baby.

It turns out that the baby had 69 chromosomes. You're supposed to have 46, 23 from each parent.
In other words, there was a whole extra set of chromosomes.

This is good news. It means it was just an accident and that Dr. Torrie and I don't have any genetic mutations.

My doctor cleared us to start trying again, when we're ready.

Posted by torrie at 01:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (15)

I thought I was doing better, but last night, right before I went to bed I got teary.

Maybe it was because I had been packing up all of my pregnancy related items. I felt like it would give me closure and at the very least I wouldn't have to walk around my apartment and be constantly reminded by numerous pregnancy books, or the belly cream on my night stand.

I had HORRIBLE dreams. One was so bad, I woke up crying.
I thought about writing about it, but it was just too horrible.

What I've realized is this- I'm going to have good moments and bad moments. Good days and bad days. I might be laughing one minute, and crying the next.

Regardless of the phycological trauma, I need to realize that my hormones are fluctuating drastically.

So, I just have to let myself go through the process.

On a seperate note....
I just want to thank you all for your kind words and support.
I feel embraced by all of the love and good vibes you have sent my way.
I really don't think you understand how much you all have helped me.
I wonder what this would have been like if not for all of my internet friends giving me constant support and encouragement.

THANK YOU.

Posted by torrie at 11:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (24)

I knew something was wrong.
Call it woman's intuition. Call it mother's intuition. Call it whatever you want.
Nothing was wrong physically. I just had a feeling.
The minute the sonogram image came on the screen I said, "Where's the heart beat?"
I stopped looking at the screen.
The doctor had a strange look on her face.
She said "I'm 99% sure there's no heart beat, but I want to send you upstairs for a more comprehensive ultrasound to confirm it"
The doctor left the room and my husband and I collapsed into a pile of tears.
We did the best we could to pull ourselves together and we walked liked zombies out of the doctor's office and through the waiting room filled with pregnant women in various sizes.
I don't remember the walking through the hospital or riding upstairs in the elevator, but I do remember arriving in the ultrasound waiting area surrounded by more happy pregnant women.
I wasn't mad at them for being pregnant, but I wondered if they realized how lucky they were.
My husband and I sat in that waiting room for over an hour with intermittent tars streaming down our faces.
Finally someone called us.
She performed a very thorough ultrasound. I starred at the ceiling. She excused herself and came back into the room with another woman. The other woman started ultrasounding me.
They kept asking me to hold my breath.
Then they started having a conversation in front of us.
"Do you see that there?"
"Yes"
I'm getting 107"
"Wait was that 120?"
"That can't be right"
"107, 107"
My husband asked what was going on
"We're picking up a heart beat"
I turned to my husband and said "107 is too low, don't get your hopes up"
The women finished with me and told us that the doctor (not my OB, but the head radiologist) was at lunch and could we please go back to the waiting room. And wait.
We waited 45 minutes and finally another woman came and got us.
She brought us into another ultrasound room and put a gown on the table.
"Another one?"
"Yes. Boy, you guys must be having a rough day"
The woman performed a FOURTH ultrasound. Unlike the two women before her she didn't say anything.
She left the room and came back with the doctor who had been at lunch.
He said, "What I'm seeing here is not a viable pregnancy."
We told him that the other women had seen a heart beat of 107.
"I'm getting about 50, and it's mostly just leftover electrical activity.
We went back down to my OB's office. She told us that the baby was measuring the right size so something must have gone wrong in the last 24 hours. She said if we had come in for an ultrasound a day or two before she would have told us everything is fine and that we had a less than 2% chance of losing the baby.
Basically, we were watching the baby die.
She told me she would remove the baby on Monday.

For those of you who have never been through this, you can't imagine the range of emotions you go through.
Guilt. Did I do something to hurt the baby? Did I eat the wrong thing? Was that shower I took yesterday too hot?
Anger. Why is this happening to us? Haven't we been through enough? I wanted to scream at the universe "I'VE LEARNED ENOUGH LESSONS!
Sadness. I won't be pregnant in a few days.

I guess I understand why most people wait until they are out of their first trimester to tell people.
My husband and I had to call our family and friends and give them the bad news.
I hate ruining people's days. I hate making people sad. And over the past three years we have made far too many phone calls giving people bad news.
"The cancer has spread"
"He's in congestive heart failure"
"She has to have surgery"
"I have to have surgery"
When something like this happens, it doesn't just happen to you, it happens to everyone who cares about you too.

It was my oldest friends 30th birthday on Saturday. We were supposed to go on a ski trip with her. We were supposed to leave right after our OB appointment on Friday.
Instead, I had to call her and give her the bad news and cancel our trip.
She will forever associate her 30th birthday with us losing a baby.
I hate that.

Another close friend is going through a horrible ordeal. Her father fell down a flight of stairs two weeks ago, and has since developed an infection. His kidneys have shut down and he spiked a 108 fever.
He is on his deathbed.
The last thing my friend needed this week was more bad news.

It was very hard to walk around this weekend feeling pregnant, but knowing that the baby was dead.
It wasn't fair that I was nauseous. Or that the area right below my belly button had just started to protrude.

I still maintain that I was not in need of any lessons from the universe, but this situation did remind me who my real friends are, both real life and internet.

Everyone has rallied around us.

Two friends trekked through the blizzard to visit us. One brought chocolate. A third tried to get to us during the blizzard, but couldn't. He tried for SEVEN hours to get to us, but he got stuck on a train and had to go back home.

Yesterday, the day of the surgery, the friend whose 30th birthday was Saturday drove through the snow to the hospital to comfort me. Last night two more friends, who had just been with our friend whose father is dying, came to visit.

One friend who couldn't be with us sent beautiful flowers.

Others called or emailed repeatedly.

I don't know how we would have made it through this weekend with out everyone's support.

I made it through the surgery fine.

I am still coming to terms with a lot of things.

I was pregnant yesterday morning, then I wasn't last night. For lack of a better term, that's weird.

My doctor said to us that the hardest part for most couples is actually getting pregnant and we obviously can do that, so we're lucky. And, although I know that losing a baby in the first trimester is quite common, it will basically make me a nervous wreck during any future pregnancy and I hate that. This has affectively taken the fun out of being pregnant.

When is it OK to start laughing and having fun again?


I'm going to be OK, but it may take a little while.

Please bear with me.

Posted by torrie at 11:01 AM | Permalink | Comments (61)

We just got back from the doctor.
The baby has no heart beat.
They are performing surgery on Monday to remove it.

Posted by torrie at 03:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (89)

I think I might be carrying this baby in my boobs.

Posted by torrie at 09:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (14)

Posted by torrie at 02:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (23)

I still can't believe I'm pregnant.
My fist OB appointment is on the 25th.
The doctor obviously doesn't understand what a crazy lady she is dealing with.
Having to wait is eating away at me.
I don't know if this will all truly sink in until I hear the doctor confirm that I am, actually, pregnant.

Wouldn't it be funny if after having all of these symptoms I went to the doctor and found out I wasn't pregnant?

Don't shake your head. I wouldn't put it past me.

Posted by torrie at 05:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (23)

Check it out!

Posted by torrie at 12:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (27)

I think I am suffering from symptoms of a phantom pregnancy. I'm so obsessed with getting pregnant that I've actually convinced my body of it.

-My boobs are bigger.
-My gums are bleeding.
-I've been craving potatoes. I NEVER eat potatoes.
-My brain isn't working right. I been doing things like calling my cousin's cat a puppy and putting the container of bread crumbs in the refrigerator instead of the cabinet.
-I made egg salad. I love egg salad. I sat down to eat it and I couldn't. I was totally turned off by it.
-Every afternoon for the last week I have been getting this weird nausea/burning in my stomach. It happens around the same time every day. I've been eating Tums.
-I'm hungry, but I'm nauseated by foods I usually like.

If I'm not pregnant then I am a LUNATIC.

Posted by torrie at 09:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (13)

When I was 18 I was deciding between culinary school and photography school.
I chose culinary school because I met with a photographer who dissuaded me from choosing his profession.
He said that you could take a crappy picture, scan it into a computer and fix it and that because of this everyone was trying to be a photographer.
It's not that I regret culinary school, baking is a great skill to have, but I do regret not going to photography school.
I wonder if I would have become as bored with photography as I did with wedding cakes. I knew there was a problem when after three years of being a pastry chef I realized I liked putting the fresh flowers on the cakes more than I liked baking and assembling the cakes. Maybe I should have been a florist?
And, I often wonder, if I had chosen to be a photographer if I would have had as many physical ailments as I do now? Would I have needed shoulder surgery?

Even though I chose the culinary path I never lost my interest in photography. I have boxes and albums filled with photos. But, my photography always came in spurts. I would take pictures five days in a row and then not touch my camera again for three weeks.

It wasn't until I had my shoulder surgery and found myself sitting at home without a job for the first time since I was twelve, that I started taking pictures almost every single day.
It hasn't been easy. I've been using the digital camera my husband got in college. It's about seven or eight years old.
When it first came out it was a great camera; Now it's archaic.
Not only is it frustrating that I see something I want to capture and the camera can't handle it, but the camera has now started to fall apart.

The following is a list of things wrong with the camera.
1)The case is cracked
2)It uses up battery power WAY too fast.
3)The flash is stuck, so if you want to use it you have to pry it open.
4)The lens covering gets stuck sometimes.
5)When the lens covering actually opens sometimes it gives you an error message saying the lens is stuck.
6)The flap that covers the slot where the card goes in is broken and keeps flapping open.
7)The buttons that are used to navigate the view finder and change the settings stick.

I can't afford photography school, but I've thought of maybe taking a photography class.
I'm pretty sure you need a camera that works to take a class.

I, of course, can not afford a new camera.
I could buy a cheap $100 digital camera, but I refuse.
What's the point? I would be frustrated all over again.
I need a camera that can handle some serious shit. I need a camera that I can change the settings on. I need a camera that has different lenses.

I walk around and see all of these great photographic opportunities that I've missed.
I know I have great potential, I just need the right tool.

I don't see this situation being remedied any time soon.
My husband's salary is not going to increase substantially for another three years, we are trying to have a baby which means I won't be going back to work and we'll have even less money. Babies are EXPENSIVE. As it is I'm going to have to sell my hair.
I thought maybe I could raise enough money from Cafe Press, but I've only made $150 and 10% of that goes to charity, and now that I'm dot com I have to pay hosting fees every month.

And, something tells me $1,000 isn't going to fall out of the sky tomorrow.

So, I've decided to throw in the towel. I give up. I'm putting the camera away.
Maybe I'll take it out on special occasions, but right now it's giving me more frustration that joy.

I need a new hobby.

Any suggestions?

Posted by torrie at 12:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (11)