Because God Made Him Like That

     Oh the conversations we have been having at home recently.  Mikayla has definitely been more inquisitive and more aware.  Growing up I never really had "the talk" with mom, but I have always planned to have it with Mikayla.  Originally I was going to talk to her about it when she turned seven.  But when that time came around I felt she was still too young and that I would wait until the summer {more likely it is that I am not ready for her to grow up}.  But here lately she has been asking questions, so I have gingerly introduced some of the facts about growing up and the differences between boys and girls {think above the belt}.  It is more than just growing up that she is more aware of now, it is the color of people's skin, disabilities, and their accents. We have talked a lot about the possibility of having another baby.  And in these discussions I remind them that it is God who decides if and when we will have a baby.  I also like to emphasize that even though they may have their preference to whether they get a baby brother or sister, that too is up to God.  So recently when we were watching a t.v. show and Noah asked why the guy on the show talked like that{with an accent}, Mikayla was quick to offer up, "Because God made him like that."  And so that is how we begin to explain her other curiosities.  We simply explain that God makes each one of us different, and our differences are what make us special.

Deja Vu

     I wasn't sure I wanted to share this.  But knowing that one of these days I will turn the blog into photobooks has made me want to include this since it is part of our story.  At the end of January I found out that we were expecting, again.  The whole situation was surreal in how I found out to how things eventually unfolded.  It first started when I thought I had started my cycle super early, so I put in a call to the doctor's office.  They said that they can be irregular after a miscarriage {which I knew}, and to give it a few months.  It was an unusual cycle, but I didn't really think much more about it until it seemed to have stopped and started again.  I have no idea why, but I frantically took a pregnancy test.  I thought I had botched it, so I left the bathroom and came downstairs for a little while.  When I went back upstairs it was positive.  Shock and disbelief immediately set in.  To confirm the results I took another one that immediately turned positive.  Right away I was on the phone with the doctor's office.  This time they got back to me and sent me for a lab work up to check on my hcg and progesterone levels.  Both were lower than what they should have been.  I was told to repeat the test in a few days to see if the numbers were going up or down.  I completely expected them to have gone down, but instead my hcg doubled like it should have but my progesterone was still low.  A little ray of hope.  At this time I was also prescribed a nightly dose of progesterone.  The next blood test was a week later.  They were hoping the numbers would be high enough to do an ultrasound.  They were {more hope} and I was scheduled for an ultrasound.  I was a little afraid to go by myself and since Mike is my coverage for the daycare, my sister went with me.  We were able to see a heartbeat.  But I only measured six weeks when I should have been seven and the heartbeat was lower than in a healthy baby.  I was told to come for another ultrasound a week later.  It only took that night for me to know that I had already lost the baby.  For some reason I went to bed feeling pregnant, but woke up feeling completely unpregnant {probably not a word, but it is how I felt}.  I tried explaining it to Mike, but I don't think he quite got it.  The whole next week seemed to take forever.  Part of me was hoping that I was just being paranoid and that I would go in for the ultrasound and there would be a healthy heartbeat.  Reality was that there was no heartbeat.  I'm sure that I was expected to cry more than I did, but I don't think that what people realized was that I started mourning for this baby before even finding out I was pregnant {sounds strange, I know, but my first thought with the early cycle was that it was another miscarriage}.  So really I had been mourning for weeks.  It still breaks my heart.  I can't help but think that if I would have taken a pregnancy when I thought I had gotten my cycle that maybe this one could have had a fighting chance.  But what is in the past is in the past and I can't change that, I can only cling to hope for the future.  With this miscarriag, it did not progress on its own.  In order to move beyond the loss, I scheduled a D&C.  I was hoping the recovery would be quicker than the last, but no such luck.  At the D&C follow-up appointment I was referred for some bloodwork to check thyroid function and blood clotting issues.  When the results came back I was told I have a mild form of a blood clotting disorder called heterozygous MTHFR.  Basically it is a blood clotting disorder that may or may not have anything to do with the miscarriages.  It may cause tiny clots to form that may inhibit nutrient rich bloodflow to the baby.  There is a relationship between homocysteine and folic acid that I do not fully understand except that my body may not be able to fully absorb folic acid.  I was put on a baby aspirin daily to help reduce the risk of a clot. 
     I am not sure why, but I was more private with this miscarriage.  I think part of it has to do with the fact that I don't want people to feel sorry for me.  Yes, it is a difficult and heartbreaking set of events, but I still cling to the idea that everything happens for a reason.  And if we are meant to have another baby, it will happen.  As with the last miscarriage, we decided to name the baby.  The name we decided on was Logan Taylor.  I am thinking about getting a ring to memorialize the baby and possibly two angel garden stones.

And in the Quiet

     I had the house to myself {and my dog} for THREE WHOLE DAYS!  Okay, so reality is that I still had to work on Friday, but other than that it was just me and the quietness of the house.  Kinda strange.  At first I thought I might be bored, but that was soon overcome with a flood of ideas of what I could do.  Truth is, I am not sure I have ever had a house to myself.  I went from living with my parents to living with Mike.  So this is definitely a change of pace.  Perhaps I should back up just a bit and explain how I came about this peacefulness.  With Mikayla out of school on Friday and no soccer game this weekend I thought it would be an ideal time for Mike to visit his family.  The kids were definitely sold on the idea.  Fridays are my busiest day with the daycare, so I opted not to take the day off.  In addition I signed up for a class on Saturday, so even if I could have closed I still had the class to deal with.  I would love to say that I truly indulged myself this weekend, but I did not.  Most of the weekend was spent doing normal household things.  I did go to a movie {by myself} on Saturday.  But overall, it was just nice to have a weekend to myself.  Some time to do things according to my needs and my schedule.  But now we are back to reality, and I am okay with that.  After all I did miss all of Noah's cuddles and giggles, and Mikayla's "like me" helpfulness.