thirty days of 30 - day 30

Brittany, age 30.

Yep, this was the best picture taken of me all day.  Nice...

Please note, I don't look like this in real life.

Day 30 Festivities: Celebrate

I didn’t have anything official planned for the big day.  Really, the two most important things for me were: 1) that I didn’t have to work and 2) that I could spend the day with Wyatt.  Beyond that, I really didn’t care.  And(!), happy birthday to me, I got exactly what I wanted!   I did have some loose plans, but as life goes, things didn’t go as planned.  I thought Wyatt and I could ride our bikes around the lake in the morning and then my friend Phoebe said she’d pack a picnic lunch for me at the swim park.  Well, instead I made an unexpected visit to the doctor.  Lame.  It was a bit disheartening but I told Wyatt I didn’t want it to define my day.  So we just shelved the news, and went on with celebrating me! 

basket!!!

We had breakfast at La Provence.  Which as a side note, I wish I had the shirt that said, “I ate here before it was trendy.”  They used to be located in this old run-down, but quaint, building.  And then this spring they moved to a newly remodeled strip mall, shared by the uppity Zupans.  Ever since, they have been packed with people morning till night!  I just want you to know, I liked it before it was popular.  After the doctor visit, Wyatt bought me a basket for my bike – which I L-O-V-E!!!!  We then headed to the river to cool down because it was 90-degrees!  Yippee!!!  And finally we had a wonderful dinner with Phoebe and David (it was their 14^th wedding anniversary) at a tasty Moroccan restaurant in Wilsonville.  And let me just say here, the food was good, but I am in love with the cook!  Chef Dee is the sweetest, friendliest chef I have ever met.  I would go back just to see her again!

All-in-all, it was a fabulous day!  And thanks to my many family and friends that showered me with love and attention.  It is always appreciated but especially on my 30th birthday!

Something about me: I have had two miscarriages

I’ve debated back in forth in my mind as to whether I would make this fact about me public or not.  Ultimately I decided I would, not for my benefit, but hopefully for the benefit of others. 

I’m sure many people have been wondering what mine and Wyatt’s plans are regarding children.  Yes, we'd like some.  But, as I mentioned before, things don’t go as planned.  This all started about 18-months ago.  Lucky for me, I had been in tune with my body enough to know that it wasn’t working properly if we were to have children.  I presented my hunch to my doctor and she did some tests and confirmed that my assumption was correct.  So she prescribed for me to take Chlomid, a drug used to induce ovulation.  I took it with constant blood tests and monitoring, and after four months my doctor told me it wasn’t working and that there was nothing more she could do, I’d have to see a fertility specialist.  Discouragement!  However, in the meantime between her breaking the bad news to me, and my first appointment with the fertility doctor, she said that I could continue to take the drug.  And it worked!  On the sixth month it worked!

Fast forward to February.  We have our first baby doctor visit, week 11, the one where you get to hear the heart beat.  With high-hopes Wyatt and I skip into the patient room, only to learn that the heartbeat monitor can’t detect the heartbeat.  Not to panic, an ultrasound is scheduled and there they’ll be able to see the baby and confirm everything is okay.  Not so.  It’s confirmed that the baby has died (roughly around week eight) and now we’re faced with the decision on what we want to do next.  We opt for the D and C – quick and nearly painless.  I take the day off from work, the surgery is performed, all is well… And then five days later, I start bleeding, unexpectedly.  It gets worse, and worse, and worse, to the point that I’m curled on the floor in the fetus position because of the excruciating pain.  This lasts for three hours, Wyatt is by my side the entire time.  And then everything passes and I feel completely fine.  Something went wrong with the D and C and I was left to abort things naturally.  That was Leap Day 2012.

I was 12-weeks along this time.  However, I knew several weeks earlier that a miscarriage was on the horizon for this pregnancy.  One day I had the thought pop into my head that this pregnancy was going to end in a miscarriage.  And then I had a literal stupor of thought, I just couldn’t envision things in the future - things with the pregnancy or the baby.   I know it wasn’t my paranoia or concern, I know it was God’s spirit preparing me for what was to come.  This same thing has happened once before in my life.  I compare it to trying to hold a handful of water, no matter how hard I try, it just slips through the cracks.  This is how I felt about the pregnancy.  No matter what I thought, or what I read, or how I tried to manipulate how I was feeling, I couldn’t hang on – it was out of my control.  I knew, without a doubt, that it was going to happen.

When I woke up on my birthday and saw the beginnings of a miscarriage, I wasn’t alarmed.  I was disappointed and I tried to ignore it because I didn’t want to deal with it on my birthday.  But worry got the best of me and we ended up at the doctor.  Again, a heartbeat couldn’t be detected – so the next step was the ultrasound.  Wyatt and I had discussed beforehand that we wanted to do things naturally this time, so we opted from having an ultrasound done.  The writing was on the wall, I already knew it was going to happen.  Lucky for me, things didn’t really progress until 2am Wednesday morning.  (That was the best birthday present of all, not having the entire experience on my day.)  And it continued all the way until 6pm that evening.  There was lots of blood, pain, sweat, and tears – oh, and I passed out once!  But I had Wyatt by my side the entire time and we were able to convince the doctor to prescribe me some Vicodine - which really helped take the edge off the pain.  Truly, for the terrible experience it was, I was able to walk away feeling peace.  And I know it was because I was able to mentally and emotionally prepare for the event. 

I want to shout from the rooftop how much I love Wyatt!  Like I said, he was by my side every minute during each miscarriage.  And I assure you, I wasn’t looking my finest either.  He took on the role of a CNA, changing my towels and bed sheets, supplying me with food and water, giving me my drugs, and just holding my hand.  He really brought new meaning to “in sickness and in health”.  I feel beyond blessed to have Wyatt in my life. 

Lest you think that I’m some kind of super-human, stop.  I have had my share of envy, discouragement, jealousy, questioning, anger, bitterness, and all the emotions that come from an experience of this magnitude.  I still do and think I might until I am blessed with my own babe.  But here is what I do know, I know that Wyatt and I will be blessed with children some day.  I don’t know when and I don’t know how but I know we will.  And that is enough to get me through the end of each day.  Plus, now I can go to Disneyland (not that I will, I just can)!  And I can run again without feeling like I've never run before in my life...

I don’t share these experiences to gain your sympathy.  I just remember how alone I felt after my first miscarriage.  Yet, the statistics of having a miscarriage are very high.  I just feel like the whole subject is taboo and I don’t want it to be.  I found great comfort from those who told me that they had experienced the same thing.  I felt less alone.  And that is the intention of me sharing my experience here, is to help someone out there (even if it is a friend, of a friend, of a friend) feel comfort in their hour of darkness.  I’m sure I’ll be surprised by how many people will now tell me that they too had their share of miscarriages.  And that will help me.