The Mickelsen's Monkeyshines: August 2010

Cute kid, huh? That's lotion all over her. She likes to eat it. I try not to let her, but sometimes, she's just really sneaky.

I don't like Saturdays. Not at all. James has to work on Saturdays. It should be just like any other day he goes to work, but it feels different somehow. I know that all of my friends are off playing with their families and I'm stuck at home alone with the kids. Even this isn't really different than most days, but it's the idea of knowing that if I wanted to do something with somebody else, I probably couldn't. Also, James doesn't have any form of a Saturday at all. For the last 5-6 months he's been working required over time. That means his only day off is Sunday, and even then he's had to work on a few of them in the last 5 months. At least Sunday is a day of rest. Ha!

You may be wondering, at this point, why I'm sharing all this. It's because today is a Saturday and I'm bored at home. I've already vacuumed the whole house and washed the walls and base boards and read stories to the kids. Now I'm just tired and bored. :) So, because of my boredom, I decided to look up the pictures I haven't shared with you yet. Here they are!

We went to Rupert a few weeks ago for our own mini Mickelsen Family reunion. I didn't take many pictures this time. Actually, I just took one picture. This one!

This is James with his brother Matt. We were out on the boat as much as time with family and the weather allowed. It was a fun visit!

These next two pictures are of Logan and his friend Coleman. The other day when they were playing, Coleman told Logan that they should climb on these shelves and go to sleep. I thought it made a cute photo op. I especially liked the Coleman used Lizzy's baby doll as a pillow. I guess he knows what they're good for.

Then they had to switch places. Notice how they're dressed alike? That happens more often than not, coincidentally. In fact they have a lot of the same clothes. His mom and I must shop at the same stores!

Lastly, a cute picture of Lizzy. See the big bruise on her head? I have no idea how she got it. In fact, I didn't even notice it until her bath that night. She normally sports some pretty cute bangs, so they were covering up the bruise until I washed her hair. Poor thing.

I guess I'll go eat lunch now. :)

for me is talking about things till I'm beating a dead horse. James, of course, has never complained, but I know that's how I handle things and he tolerates it well enough. My shock with that, is that he talks about NOTHING! Yet, here I am, willing to talk about the same thing for about 5 days straight, analyzing every angle, making sure I've missed no thought. I've tried really hard not to "over talk" our recent situation, but to help ensure that I don't, I thought I would torture all of my avid readers with it. That thought makes me smile, literally. Stop reading if you don't want to be bored to death.

To really make this therapeutic, I have to go back 5 years ago, to when James and I first started trying to get pregnant. We'd been married for a couple of years, and the pregnancy bug was biting hard. I had resisted it for as long as I could so that I could safely finish getting my bachelors degree without being weighed down with the responsibility of a child. I'd seen too many women give in to their natural need to take care of their kids and drop out of school. I needed both things in my life, so I made the sacrifice. It was totally a personal decision, I don't look down on anybody who made the opposite decision I did. Because, it's personal.

The time had come to get pregnant. I was thrilled to see a positive test after the first month of trying. I was not so thrilled when only 1 week later I miscarried that baby. Not even two months later I got another positive read on a pregnancy test. 2 weeks later came the bitter disappointment. I went to the doctor (finally) for some testing. The doctor declared that there seemed to be nothing wrong with me and chances were the next pregnancy would stick. And stick it did! The very next month I was pregnant for the third time.

What follows was a mom (me) trying to figure out the complexities of a baby. It was difficult, but living with my mom and dad sure made things easier. My mom would take Logan after his morning feeding so that I could get another hour of sleep. Sometimes I'd come upstairs to see my mom and dad both looking and fussing over Logan. My dad was fond of calling him "fat boy" because he had a very chunky face. Good memories. However, taking care of a baby was still a hard transition for me and when it came time to get pregnant again I was very apprehensive, but I knew I should do it. There was no point in putting off more kids simply because I was scared. Once again, we got pregnant the first month we tried. I wish I could say I was excited, but really, I was just really scared.

Lizzy was born and I realized something. I had grown up. This time around, I didn't need help! I knew what to do and it came easily to me. Sure, there were sleepless nights and I was definitely frazzled by that, but a good husband is priceless in those situations. I felt very comfortable in my roll as a mother, and before Lizzy was even 9 months old I was itching to get pregnant again. Somehow I managed to resist until there would be at least 2 years between Lizzy and the new baby.

Fast forward to 3-4 months ago. We tried to get pregnant again. I wish I knew for sure if I had gotten pregnant that month, but I have no test to show for it, just the firm knowledge that I was a solid three days late. I'm a 28 day kind of gal, so on the third late day I took a test. It showed up negative. I was absolutely stunned and unbelieving. If only I had waited another hour, because that's all it took to be sure I was not pregnant.

Fast forward one more month, I'm pregnant, for sure! I let James be the one to read the test before I could. That made him happy to know I was pregnant before I did. :) This pregnancy was great. I hardly felt sick at all, except for moments in the evening where if you looked at me wrong I was sure I might throw up in your face, but nothing extreme. ;) I finally made my doctor's appointment, that for whatever reason I had really procrastinated in doing. I was surprised that day to be sitting in his office and realized how excited I was to finally see my baby. I tried not to let it disappoint me when the doctor couldn't find the heart beat, and was really shocked at my feelings of peace and calm when the ultra sound showed that the baby was only measuring at 8 weeks, with no heart beat, when I thought I was 10 weeks. I'd had no spotting to warn me of this news, but I still felt calm and assured that everything was fine and that this wasn't a big deal. I called James before I left to tell him the news. He was sincerely disappointed and I felt like I was "calming" him down. There wasn't much to calm however. I joke with him that his heart is dead because he seems to never show any emotion.

I went back to my Mom's house to pick up my kids, feeling calm as could be. I surprised myself a bit when I couldn't get the words out to her with out crying a little bit.

I had friends and sisters call me as soon as they heard the news. They all tried to figure out why I didn't seem too sad. The best description I can give is that I knew it could happen all over again. I'm mostly just disappointed that I was sick for no reason, that it's going to take that much longer until I have my baby, I have to go through the stupid D and C procedure, I have to do the whole planning and waiting thing to get pregnant again....etc. Those are all pretty heartless reasons, but there they are anyway.

I was very apprehensive last night and this morning in anticipation of my procedure. I was scared of all the pain, but on some level of knowing my body, I knew that the pain would be minimal. James has determined that my body has a high pain tolerance; it's my mind that has a low pain tolerance. Any time I know a needle is coming near me I start acting like a crazy person, literally. James made a joke to the nurses that I was already drugged up. They took it seriously enough that they asked if I really was. After putting the IV in, with out any drugs going through it, I commented on how funny I felt. They quickly bombarded me with an onslaught of questions, what's my name, spell it, when is your birthday, and so on. Like I said, I'm a crazy person. (I'm happy to report that I answered all their questions correctly!) The procedure when with out a hitch and the doctor reported that my bleeding will be minimal because it looked as though the baby was nearly ready to pass on it's own.

In the recovery room I broke down in tears. James asked me what I was feeling and thinking. Strangely enough I had no answer for him. I had no idea where the tears were coming from. I wasn't feeling sad, or hurt or anything. I'm thinking they were just a side affect of coming out of the anesthesia.

I'm home now. I'm trying to evaluate my thoughts and feelings now. I don't think they've changed too much, although I've been warned that they might. Again, my biggest frustration is that I have to go through it all again. Not the D and C, but the planning, trying to get pregnant, waiting to find out, feeling sick, and the anticipation of losing it. My mom had 4 miscarriages and 8 kids. I'm hoping that I've met my quota of 4 miscarriages, although I doubt I'll have the 8 kids. (Sorry mom!) But let's be real. This is my main apprehension. What if there is something wrong with my body? What if I get pregnant easily, but have a hard time staying pregnant? It's a real concern for me for more than one reason. I'm shocked by the amount of women I know who struggle to get pregnant. Some of them already have 2-3 kids, but despite their best efforts, they just can't get/stay pregnant again. It's heart breaking for them, and I have no doubt that I won't handle it well if that's the case for me. I'm meant to have more children, I feel that in my heart, so that's what keeps me calm.

My condolences to all of you who have gone through the same struggle, or worse, have never had the joy of carrying a baby. James and I have even discussed the option of my being a surrogate mother for other women once I'm done having my own children. I (deeply) want to bless the lives of other women with being able to have a child that is them and their husband's. I only hope that this can still be an option for me in the years to come. I'm sure it will, but I'm a girl and a pessimist, so let me fret over it, ok?

Thanks for letting me vent. Kudos to those who made it through all of this.

Oh, one more thing, I've been instructed to take an aspirin every day of my first trimester when I get pregnant again. I know that there have been a lot of studies trying to show if this helps women not miscarry or not. I guess the tests have proven positive! Thanks to all the women who volunteered their bodies in those tests. Yes, that means you Jocelyn. :) Thank you!