Tag Archives: #cancer

Your Pink Elephant Is Real!

I sat through two appointments today about what to do with my youngest, who is 2 year old and having attentional/sensory issues.  This week has been a whirl wind.  I am trying to catch up after having a bad case of the stomach flu.  My oldest had an appointment too, due to her anxiety over middle school.  She is going to be going to counseling for  a bit.

It’s like this. Last fall, we paid a $1000 for the front end of my car to be rebuilt after a tire popped on the highway.  Thankfully, we walked away. I started hearing more noises lately.  It’s an inspection sticker month.  I asked them to look for the source of these noises.   I am hoping they just say your crazy lady.  I returned to get more $1000 estimates on more work to be done.

I was hoping the day of my 2 1/2 year old evaluation I was hoping to hear I was crazy too!  My gut is often correct.  The worry is setting in.  She is two and half and she needs services for attentional/sensory issues.  What is her future going to be like?  What will kindergarten be like?  I feel the guilt, the worry and the blame.

Remember something, my first daughter died from Campomelic Dysplasia.  I was a Rare Mom first.  I learned rather quickly how to advocate for Avery in the 14 weeks we knew.  It happened again.  I advocated for Addison.  Shortly later the breast cancer came.  We are not talking a rare disease or cancer.  Weather it’s migraines or sensory/attention issues, this rare mom is up for the challenge, because Avery Bravery taught me so.  Even through these are more common problems, my brain is on it!

Next week will be a little emotional for me.  It’s my birthday.  I am not grieving getting old.  I grieving my losses.  My father was extremely verbally abusive.  I knew that I was not wanted at an early age.  My mother gave me all she had.  It was my saving grace.  There is still a piece of me that makes me feel like a loser.  It is at this time a year, I miss my mom and my angel children the most.  I see what others have.  The negative thinking is having a field day in my mind. The empty parts of me light up with intensity.   My sadness has lessen compared to other years, when I would wake up in tears around my birthday.  Some days the emptiness of his words punch through.  I have plans to quietly celebrate my day.  This weekend with friends.  Next week, I will celebrate with the girls on the actual day.

Lately, my career path options has been popping up.  My resolution was to bring our family to a healthier path.  I signed papers for the school system to look at my youngest daughter.  She only has about 5 months with Early Intervention.  More time pressures on my schedule at work are possible.  This week was filled with antagonistic comments. I couldn’t fight them.  I feel like I work harder than I need too.  There are other options to make my life easier.  I don’t claim to have the perfect balance.  After Campomelic Dysplasia and Cancer, I don’t have the same priorities. Surely, there must be more options.  Life can’t be this hard.

There is a housing shortage.  All this hard work to get out of this city.  The houses without needing work are too expensive.  The thought of moving out of this house into another fixer upper depresses me.  We put so much into this house.  It may not be this year the big move.  I am hoping.  The last big project is the bathroom being redone.  No house is without work to be done.  Hopefully, we find that dream house and move on.  The other town is top preference.  I was told if my daughter could walk to a bus stop, they would consider transporting her.  Not so much is up in the air as compared to other times in my life.  I am going to hope.  I may take a plunge into a new career move.

PS-The doctor thinks Joy may have some milk protein allergy going on.   She is doing way better on milk free milk like Almond milk.  The eczema cleared up on her skin Her acid reflux meds are fine.  She recently had regular milk by accident.  Her behavior was uncontrollable and she had diarrhea.

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Life Did Get Better: So Did Joy

PLEASE NOTE: I STARTED THIS ABOUT 2 WEEKS AGO.  IT NEVER GOT FINISHED.

I think I was ready to have a nervous break down with Joy.   Somehow! Someway! Little one’s light turned on!  I was constant and last weekend.  The little girl, who barely made it through dance class, she spent the entire class by herself and listening to the teacher.  My jaw dropped!  There she was out on the dance floor by herself and LISTENING TO THE TEACHERS!  WOW!

It wasn’t just dance school.  I heard from daycare that Joy did a 360.  The little one who couldn’t hitting others is listening.

We saw the hematologist.  I was the first family documented in the world for a rare disease.  I know doctors have to bring up all possibilities.  When her iron levels were normal and her blood cells were small.  They had to tell me the other possibility that she was a carrier of a blood disease, if the cells did not grow bigger after another month of iron.  I literally couldn’t breath at times the day of the appointment.  No one was more happier than me to hear she was fine.

Her behavior improved a few weeks ago.  Something clicked for Joy.  The doctors say the anemia had no effect on her mood.  Where did the 360 come from?  The other week after 8 years to put the crib up, we took it down and put the toddler bed up.  I had to redo the room.  It looks like a “BIG” Girl’s room.  I emailed the leader of the parenting group for Joy’s IVF clinic with all the good news.  When Joy went to dance class all by herself, we canceled the evaluation for Early Intervention.  She need constant consequences for her behavior.  The woman who runs daycare wasn’t doing that at all.  Unfortunately, I blew up at her.   Unloading repressed anger gracefully isn’t my strong suit.

I am trying to stop working split shifts and two jobs.  One, as tired as I am, I can never seem to sleep after working during the day and evening.  Two, it screws up my taxes so bad that I might as well deliver pizza for a living.  We do keep trying to look for a house we can afford.  We can’t find one.  We have an argument now.  Either way, the bathroom is getting done this year.  There is a huge possibility of mold growing behind those walls.  I am not risking our health and well being anymore.

I agreed to take more hours at the better paying of the two demons that I work for.  I cut my hours to once a month at the other job.  My medical oncologist office switched to a new hospital affiliation.  I had an appointment schedule for this year during last year’s appointment.  They failed to notify me that one the doctor is no longer there.  Two, a new hospital took over the practice.  Three, your appointment was canceled.  Monday, I had to work extra hours for a no show appointment on their end.  Then, the next day, they told me that I was a “new” patient and they couldn’t find me in the system.  My anxiety has been high.  Cancer patients want reassurance.  Grant, I do freak out with annual exams from an oncologist and a mammogram.  It is like whew cancer is not back today.  I got very angry.  I called a new cancer center in my town.  The new cancer center said, we have quite a few people transferring from over there.  I called whoever they are now and told them I want my records!  They insist they sent a letter.  They insist it must be my fault.  Well, the “quite a few people” are getting one more.  It was a nightmare to leave work early and go driving out in the snow to be stood up by the practice under a new hospital affiliation!  I don’t really care!  Just treat me right!  I am stressed about it!  It’s not good to be a cancer survivor with no mammogram or medical oncologist  appointment.

Tomorrow, Joy starts at a new drop in child center.  She is staying at her daycare center with the school system hours.  I have enough problems sleeping and remembering my own schedule.  I am not hiring another baby sitter to screw up my schedule.  At times, I didn’t know who hired who.  I am not working 6 days a week to pay someone with that type of treatment.  This drop in place is for childcare when I am in a pinch.  That way, I can do my trainings and get my medical appointment done.  As I have said, I am done complaining and hoping someone fixes it.  It’s about what I can do.  It’s also about me not taking on everything as my responsibility.

My oldest is having migraines.  Now, she looses vision for some time. Preteens are tough.  Unfortunately, chocolate is a migraine diet no-no.  I try the best I can as a prying mother!  (laughing!) I don’t have all figure out, but I keep trying.

These Past Few Months…

Writing allows my sanity to flow.  My toddler daughter reminds me how much zest for life we have as small children.  I see pictures of me  at twenty-five year old in a wedding grown.  I believed.  My innocence was taken away, when I learned the baby I was carrying was to die from an awful disease.  My first born had a bell shaped rib cage that refused to let her lungs expand.  I watched her die.  Then, it was the words of others that confused me.  I didn’t care about the social issues.  It was what I felt I needed to do for her and our family.  Then, when a miracle occurred and second one was born, the rug was torn from under the feet of my soul.  I chose bad caregivers with their own agenda to care for her without knowing.  For months, I cried at the level of betrayal.  I learned from that day forward to trust my own gut instinct.  The innocence of a picture of me at twenty-five year old in wedding gown was torn.

When I wanted another baby, I held the silence of the losses.  One miscarriage at six weeks, 18 weeks, 13 weeks and 21 weeks.  I silenced my voice.  Then the breast cancer came and my mother died.  Quiet Ellen!  Can’t you be grateful for the one you have?  I swallowed my pain and disconnected from the world.  I am doing this!  It took 8 years.  Proof, I flew out to the West Coast a few times instant miracle. Joy, my youngest,  was born.  Please don’t take me ungrateful.

The house was covered in black mold, a newborn’s parent worst nightmare. I have gone crazy scrubbing walls at night and getting a few hours to take care of Joy.  This war with the MOLD is always going on.  Somedays, I find it ironic like the negativity in my mind.  Somehow, I got disconnected from the one person I should have been connected with.  He kept drinking.  When I looked into her eyes, I heard my mother say, “do the best you can with what you have.” The mold has mostly fell into silence except when I notice it got a another piece of Joy’s clothing.  The war continues.  Finally, I brought the most expensive dehumidifier ever after a long battle about buying it.  My oldest has migraines now.   It seems puberty related. This morning, I notice, yep another cute shirt gone due to mold. Writing saves my life.

I am trying to reconnect with others. I don’t know if everyone will ever come back who were lost in my quest to have another baby.

As for the mold, I started reaching out to a family friend for help in the construction business.  That exclusive all expensive dehumidifier wouldn’t run continuously for the dumbest reason ever.  The company coils the drain hose.  I order another one.  Same thing again.  The family friend picks up because the company has coiled the drain hose, it’s causing kinks.  He drills a hole in the wood board holding the dehumidifier and puts a cooper tube in to hold the hose straight.  It WORKS!  Meanwhile, I struggling to find the time to load the old one in my car to return it.

I found myself struggling with the schedule of two jobs.  I have to pick up the kids by 3PM.  My daughter was picked to go to school in another town.  Middle school has no afterschool.  There is no public transportation.  I have to stop working and get the kids.  Then, I wait home until 6PM.  I am out to another job.  I noticed my toddler seems extremely impulsive.  She doesn’t like to be alone.  She hates shoes and gloves.  She bolts.  She has almost ran into the street several times.  She won’t eat bread.  It takes a half an hour to dress her in the morning, because she fights with you so much.  I do love her very much.  I very concerned about her behavior.  She is hitting every child at daycare.  Right before Christmas, she ran from the daycare teacher at the library and almost ran into the parking lot.

I started blaming myself because I haven’t had the same amount of time for her as the first.  When I last specialized in children, I learned about sensory disorders.   I don’t know much about them.   I am so concerned about her running into her death because she was hit by a car.  Her behavior is beyond the average toddler.  I made a decision to have Early Intervention look at her because she is like a space ship on continuous warp speed.  I am not worried about autism because that kid loves people.

In the past few months, I have been sleeping right.  I can’t seem to sleep after working at night.  One job is constantly under staff.  I have left at midnight due to it a few times.  Then, I struggle to get up to fight with the toddler to get dress.  My oldest is having anxiety about being late for school.  I have missed many showers.  I tried everything with my schedule.  When I was asked to take on an additional placement at my main job, I agreed as long as I can work additional hours on Sunday.   How does a toddler almost get out to the parking lot of a library? I started looking at other daycares.  All the childcare providers that my oldest had are retiring.  I feel like I am starting over.  Somedays, I very overwhelmed by child care for Joy.  She is in a family daycare that runs on the school schedule.  I started having chest pains last October.  I can’t get to the doctors because I have to wait for my husband to come home.  When Joy comes, I constantly correcting her.  It’s suicide watch 24/7.  My husband actually brunt his vacation days up so I get my trainings done for my license renewal.  I never wait until last second.  Two jobs and a mold war is all I am going to say.  I love her so much.  At 10AM on my days off, it feels like midnight.

I went for a stress test.  I warned the person that I wasn’t going to make my 3PM pick up time a week in advanced.  I am telling her I need a stress test.  So the morning of, she says see you at 3PM.  I told her again.  The daycare closes at 3:30, but she makes us tell her an exact pick up time.  I had to wait two weeks due to trainings, her jury duty and early release days for my oldest.  The test was at 2:15PM.  It was 2:35.  I said something.  The woman looks at me and says, “let’s reschedule it.”  It’s an act of congress for everything.  I am lucky to shower in the morning.  I said look I want to know the results.  They did the condense version.  I had an asthma attack.  You would think all that running after Joy would count as working out.  I bolted from the appointment.  I ran down to the daycare.  Her dog escapes and I am trying so hard to help. (The dog was saved.)   She bolts in the car with one of her kids and leaves.  She talking about Christmas shopping.  I ran out of time.  Christmas Eve, I discovered I ran out of wrapping paper.

I had to do extra hours at both jobs to cover Christmas, New Year’s and two days off. I travel for a living.  It’s a real struggle to make sure I am there at 3 every day.  I have no vacation time because I am part time.  I have to train weekly for a month to submit the paperwork to get my professional license.  We have 2 years to get the trainings done.  I had to cancel or not go due to all the problems at home.  (Side story, one training I was doing on my own lost accreditation.  I had to scramble to find new ones fast.) It was done.  It’s not my style.

Anyways, the stress test was normal because I was never contacted about problems.  I got a letter in the mail my cholesterol is normal first time in 7 years.  It could mean, I am experiencing scar tissue pain from the breast cancer treatment or anxiety attacks.  This is my thoughts on it.

When I looked at that baby day one, I realized how much resentment I was carrying due to the lack of help from other family members with my oldest.  Constantly resenting it does NOTHING!  I promised myself and her that I wasn’t waiting for a caped figure to rescue me.  I am putting that cape on myself.  I am Ellen hear me roar!

I brought the woman at daycare a gift.  She was obvious that she was upset there was no holiday bonus. Of course she is closed Christmas break.  We saved a lot of money switching daycare to her place.  So, I had it.  I found something that takes the pressure off me a lot.  I found a drop in daycare center!  You buy hours and schedule days. I also toured another daycare.  Joy was not prompted.  She sat down in every class and participated.  I am pretty sure she has an impulse problem.  She is blowing out of her dance class.  Her behavior is like the Tasmanian Devil.  Listen, my gut says something is wrong.  I am going to do the right thing here.  Maybe Early Intervention will tell me that I am crazy.  If she needs help, let’s start now before she flunks kindergarten.  If she needs nothing, I have peace of mind.  I am not allowed to practice my profession on my own kids.  I see some concerns.  I don’t think sitting around and wait another year will help.

I feared her return to daycare.  It was an explosion on my part.  I don’t do well with repressed anger.   The night before for eight hours to make money from taking days off.  I worked in a 50 degrees office with work for 3 people.  I apologized.  The women at daycare disagrees with me.  She thinks it’s all behavioral.  You know what there is nothing wrong with asking for help.  I lost two babies due to rare disease.  I flew in my first pregnancy to Maryland to get a second opinion.  Who am I not to ask the question?  We hired the drop in daycare. The pressure is off a little about childcare.  I need to take care of myself.

It really hurt when I went to that IVF clinic chat room and I was put on the spot.  Later, I did talk to the admin person.  It was the other admin person who did that.  I just told her I didn’t think it was the right time for us to interact with them.  I am never going back.  Listen, I fight addiction that is in recovery at home, work two jobs and I try my best.  I am also concerned because Joy’s red blood cells are small.  Her iron levels are normal. It was brought to my attention because the doctor has to worn you about everything that there is a slight possibility she could be the carrier of rare blood disease, which doesn’t effect her health, but may effect her when she goes to have children.  It could just be do to her anemia.  Let’s stop right there.  Our family broke medical history of being the first documented carrier for a different rare disease.  I heard him say slight.  I stopped him and summarized our lives in 5 minutes.  Yes, I can do that in a matter of fact way.  Sadly, it’s our reality.  Some days, I can.  Some days, I can’t.   Joy is my daughter.  I refused to look the rare blood disease.  Of course, my husband says I already did.  Sorry, I am busy looking at daycares right now and getting Early Intervention in.  I am going to keep faith again that isn’t what it seems.  I am crawling with anxiety.  Joy was conceived through embryo donation.  If her cells do not improve, I am feeling a duty to warn BIG TIME.  I did not share this with that group.  Because we don’t know.  Maybe my innocence was destroyed but why panic everyone?  It can’t happen to us…  AGAIN?  If this is the case, I will follow it up and take steps to warn the professionals.   I am not sitting on that.

I also did not feel ready to learn if Joy had genetic donor siblings.  I am not hiding the information from her.  It may someday put my relationship and her sister’s relationship in stress with her.  I don’t tell everyone about donor conception because I feel that is Joy’s choice long term to decide if she wants to disclose the information.  Look what happens just choosing to make decisions that our best for my family.  I have seen the dark side of medical treatment.

As for my oldest and her migraines, I am working hard on diets and regular routines. I am in short the evil mother to a certain preteen.  She had a doctor appointment after the blinding migraine.  She needs to see an eye doctor incase there is damage.  She already had an appointment due to the school mis-documenting she wears glasses and she flunked her eye exam.  We will keep it.

My resolution?  I lived two years sleep deprived.  I miss showers greatly.   I am trying to escape a violent city.  I am trying to take better care of myself.  I need to attend Co-dependents Anonymous more.  It seems to work better than wondering if my therapist knows someone I professional know.  I tried therapy and learned she knew the doctor I worked for.  I never went back.

We have been living a crazy life to fight the mold.  Hopefully, by me not working nights, I can monitor bed times.  Maybe my menstrual cycles will turn normal.  I bleed heavy.  They last for 20 days.  Gee, do you think that impacts my mood?  I gave up coffee.  I tried to quit smoking.  I need to sleep more regularly.  Sleep deprivation is like being drunk from what I am reading.  I don’t know what this year will bring.  Hopefully, we can gut the bathroom be done with the MOLD and the other dark stuff that taunt our lives.

Forget the caped figure!  I am saving myself!  I am putting my own cape on. I need peace with the person in my life.  I do love him.  He had a sore throat and I went crazy looking for a cough drop.  Somehow, I need to accept what is or figure out what to do.  I am not 100% innocent of being a part of the problem.  I need an attitude adjustment too.   of As for my career path, I need to figure a way to make a bigger income.  About $30,000, doesn’t cover daycare.  I can’t be working 6 days straight.  It was a tough decision because neither place was a prime choice.  I chose the one with more money.   For now, I told my very long term job that I will stop working every week regularly.  I am hoping a regular sleep schedule will decrease the stress.  I hope Hope and Joy’s life improves.  My New Year’s Resolution is to keep working on healthy choices for my daughters and I.

 

Officially Saying Good Bye To Being Pregnant: Pregnancy Loss Awareness Month

Pregnancy was a Pandora’s box for me.  This is how I explain this to my daughter Hope.  I opened the box and my first daughter Avery died of a rare disease.  Then, Hope came.  The box stayed open and I went on to experience 4 more losses and infertility.  I learned our family was the first documented medical case to carry this horrible rare disease.  A second child Addison died.  If that wasn’t horrible enough, the demon of breast cancer came out of the box and I was diagnosis with in six months of my second daughter’s death.  My mother died 10 months later.  For years, nothing.  No baby.  Then 11 years after the Pandora’s box was open, our last daughter Joy was born.

Joy is two now.  I started the family space cellar a year before our first daughter died.  For years, it nagged me.  After Joy was born, it was finished 11 months after her birth.

For years, I would store everything that Hope had in that cellar.  Joy’s unfinished nursery haunted me before her birth.  Hope would come home in tears. Another baby brother or sister was born at school.  When will it be our turn?

At age 9, Hope asked me to paint the room that is now Joy’s nursery because she felt it was too childish for the playroom/home office.  When I started the trips to the West Coast to start my embryo donation cycles, Hope decided that room was bigger and she asked me to let her switch.  I said, “no.” There are wall decals in that room that were hard to put up.  Two walls were blank.  Upon the news of Joy’s pregnancy.  I decided one wall was to be a rainbow.  At 32 weeks, Hope started one hand print at a time (a color a week) to make that rainbow.  Joy presses her hand against each print.  It’s really going to hurt when the house gets sold.  It’s not on the market yet.

When I decided it was time to have a baby, I kept my eyes on yard sales sometimes.  My babies had a room at this house, I worked on it from the second I found out I was pregnant with Avery.  On the eve before our big trip to England (the belated honeymoon we never got & the last fling before we became parents.), I sit in there weeping.  The baby had multiple birth defects and we had no reason to believe who ever it was would survive.  My anger rose, I pushed all the furniture to the floor screaming no!  My husband was ready to cancel the trip, when I said, “look if the baby is to die, let’s show little one the world.”

I kneeled everywhere at Westminster Abbey begging for my child’s life.  I brought the baby a cross.  We were not of that religion.  This wonderful trip became anxious.  We waited for word from Boston.  Instead of laughing and having the time of our lives, we quietly cried.  I refused pictures of myself the entire pregnancy.  I hope someday, our family returns to England for a happy trip.

Avery saw the world in utero.  We found an expert in Maryland.  We flew down.  I was pregnant with Avery in New York.  Sadly, the week afterwards, Avery was born prematurely, she lived a day and died.  I was a girl of faith and spirituality.  The Pandora box of Pregnancy made me question everything.

Moving from yesterday to today, I kept storing baby items that Joy outgrew.  I see signs of Perimenopause in myself.   Yes, there is no way we could do it again.   All those years of chasing for a Rainbow, it happened.  I was planning to try a yard sale.  Every weekend, I found an excuse.  This weekend we are going to try to have one.  After Joy’s birth, I was asked if I wanted my tubes tied.  I declined. After all those years of trying, it felt like insult to have your tubes tied.  Our family works so hard to pay for her conception back.  I got pregnant with Hope after an infertility evaluation on my own. The babies who never came home had a few things here.  Some outfits, we are keeping incase of grandchildren.  A few years ago, we took the final genetic screening.  It is supposedly, just our generation.  Hope will be fine. So, here’s too hoping.  (Remember Joy was conceived embryo donation.  There is no effect.)  I am skeptical.  It wasn’t suppose to happen after the first lost.

I hope to live to see grandchildren, if my children choose to.  It has been tough to hold each outfit and remember.  Sunday will be a little tough.  When the house is ever sold, I will need consoling.  It was in this house all the babies were suppose to come home to.   After all those years, I am saying good bye.  Hopefully, I will be able to live to see grandchildren.  I have always promised my children if for any reason they end up struggling with infertility, I would be there.  Isn’t strange due to the weather, this yard sale will be occurring on Pregnancy Loss Awareness Day.

Like The Song: Summer Has Been Cruel

How does one pick up the pieces after you give your own spouse an ultimatum to get into alcohol treatment or leave the house?  I know I haven’t written in forever.  It’s been an act of congress for me to go to the bathroom over the pass few weeks never mind blogging.  I wanted to stop remodeling and put the house back together right after he started substance abuse treatment.  Our house was in pieces.  He wanted to continue.  With tears in my eyes, I packed the cabinets.

Fast forward to the family vacation about 3 weeks ago.  We just finished painting the cabinets.  Everything is in boxes.  This is your idea of vacation?  The cabinets look awesome in beige.  I had a real rotten day right before vacation.  Sleep has been bare minimal prior to vacation.  I ended up sick with a bladder infection because I work two part time jobs around my children’s schedules, there is no sick time or vacation time.  I have spent most of my summer fearing what to financially do as a single parent.  He went into treatment.  Our toddler is a very active girl.  Put her down for one second and it is one second too long.  I am forever joking she is a toddler ninja master.  I think my reflexes have improved since she started walking.  My oldest was a thoughtful child.  You could leave her in her room for hours with only a book.  This one, I had to become a ninja master quick.  I need to predict her quick before toddler finds trouble.

My last work day before vacation was awful.  The original babysitter took the girls to lunch.  I was hoping for a hamburger about a week.  She took them to a burger place.  I was left with their uneaten lunches.  All I thought was that 20 minutes to pack lunches which could have been used for more sleep or a shower.  Of course the girls didn’t want burgers.  I went to a convent store, which served burgers and sandwiches.  The guy behind the counter comes out to tell me that they are out of burgers.  Our toddler is extremely fussy about food.  I brought her something.  She threw it around the car.  We went to one store to do quick clothing shopping for the girls birthday pictures.   I had to pick through summer clearance.  I had personalized shirts made for the girls.  I wasn’t finding anything that matched for my toddler Joy.  I was pushed against time.  I brought a dress even through I wanted something more.  We couldn’t go to another store.  The dog was waiting.

I get home survey the disaster zone and began to freak out because of course one of the personalized shirts is missing.  I did find it.  I knew the house was a complete disaster.  I literally offering to send my husband with the girls over the few days up North so I could stay home.  I see this isn’t going to be an easy clean up.  One job was threatening not to pay me for the week.  There are still all these little projects to do.  The house has to be perfect by a week.  A new babysitter is starting to care for them at our house.  My work schedule is changing for to accommodate my oldest going to middle school.  The other babysitter decided she wanted Mondays and Tuesdays off to spend time with her husband.  I have worked 6 days a week to pay her wages.  Isn’t love grand when you have it?  I have not been a twinkle in anyone’s eye for many years.  Fear of being a single parent has kept me up many nights.  He comes home from his groups sober and right to bed.  The emotional divorce continues.

Believe or not, I found the personalized shirt with Joy screaming in the background.  It occurred to me to just put the shirt over the dress, because that was the best match.  The other bottoms just didn’t work.  I get in the car picture morning.  He brought me earnings and apologizes.  I am in tears.  Okay maybe this will all work out.  We get the pictures done and grab a quick bite to eat.  The photographer tells me her infertility story no kids.  She is in dept and the mall is being torn down.  Time to put the kitchen back together.  This is when all the problems happen.

My mother was in a horrible car accident, when I was younger.  She was hit by a car and she never walked again.  It ended her life earlier due to medical problems.  She brought us what we needed at the time with her settlement money.  The only item, she brought was a antique piece of furniture called a dry sink from the 1800’s.  I noticed it was deteriorating.  During a small flood, the water almost reached it.  I begged my inlaws to take it.  They wouldn’t.  I live in one of the smallest houses in the state.  All these people with big houses crack me up with, “I don’t have the room.”  How come some how I find the room?  We got this idea to replace the microwave cart with the dry sink.  Dry sink have very fancy tops.  We brought this microwave shelf to hang our microwave.  We took measurements.  It was close.  We were running out of money.  I didn’t know my husband took some emergency money and our helpful friend was getting paid.  He came over to finish the counter top edges.  One still remains undone.  The house was already a disaster zone.  The space just got tighter.  My husband is in early recovery now.  So, I gave him Joy duty.  I gave him all errands after he went to the gym.  The bulk of the work was up to me.  We hadn’t touched the bathroom at this point.  The dry sink makes it so I have rearrange table chairs.  The microwave shelf didn’t work.  After trying to develop options, we end up putting the microwave on the counter.

I ended up with a cold.  I promised myself no late painting jobs.  I have a secret that I don’t share with my husband.   I was in individual therapy and some couples counseling after Addison died and we were consider our options to have another child.  I worked with the psychologist for three years.  I stopped going because I felt the crisis with our daughter’s still birth, my cancer treatment and my mother’s death was over.  I went to her, when my biological father died, my husband’s drinking picked up and he refused a hearing test.  She told me something that I have held a secret.  She thinks he may have high functioning autism.  I am not sure is fully true, because if you ever met my in-laws they are very verbally abusive.  The strange thing is, boy does he love her.  I was begging this woman for help because our marriage was falling apart.  I asked her to help me with his drinking and refusing a hearing test.  She said he didn’t have a drinking problem or hearing loss.  She said the biggest problem was neither one of us met each other’s needs anymore.  She told me if I really cared for him that I need to embrace his high functioning autism and deal with it.  I left in silent tears.  She gave him the biggest hug.    For the record, he failed his hearing test about a year later.  Here we are in alcohol treatment mode.  Damn, you must have missed something rather big there!

I got a cold and stayed up late.  I worked after Joy went to bed with very few hours sleep because he was in group to stop drinking. Here is Wednesday, the last night before we left for NH.  The house is still a disaster zone.  It’s getting better.  I am waiting for the fire department to fine me.  I start in on the bathroom.  Just paint the walls and closet this should be quick.  We had a brown medicine cabinet.  Things are financial tight.  I figure, I will just paint the medicine cabinet white.  We had this awesome surprise for my oldest.  There is a boat that serves ice cream she always wanted to go on.  I got her surprise tickets.  I busy packing, cleaning and finding birthday gifts.  I went to use the spray paint.  I am really sick with the cold.  This cloud of white paint covers the whole bathroom.  It’s everywhere.  I order the evacuation of the house.  I have an asthma attack.  Here I am scrubbing the paint off before it ruins everything.

We ran out of the house to drop off the ferret at the caretaker’s house.  We did drive through and it took so long.  I told my husband to drive off.  We had nothing to eat.  We drop the ferret off.  I am joyfully teasing Hope about her surprise.  I messed up the time of the boat.  It was for 7 not 7:30.  She is crying hard.  The cruise is telling me that they would try to sell the tickets for me to get my money back.  I was so hurt.  Here I am barely speaking to them because I am congested.  They sold half the tickets.  We had to rebuy tickets for Labor weekend.  I single handedly screwed up the surprise.  The bathroom is still to be painted.  I pleaded again to stay home and let the family go on vacation.  I decided I am going to finish this by staying up all night.  We had problems with the paint.  I ran out of paint at 5AM.  I want my mother at this point.  They all woke up.  It was time to go. I am trying to finish the bathroom closet with ceiling paint.   I barely slept in the car.  My daughter went into these caves in NH.  My toddler decides she is going to walk all 1,000 steps on her own.  Remember, I have a lot of neurological damage in my left arm.  I am struggling to hold her from committing suicide by falling into a crave.  The hotel was awful.  It smelled of pot.  Hope decided to stay up all night talking to me.  My husband left his bag at home.  We had to rush to buy emergency clothing.  I am trying to explain early recovery to my husband, because I have done substance abuse counseling for years.  He is blowing up at me left and right.  All I am thinking is I have to work Saturday and Sunday.  The new babysitter starts Monday.

We had one good day.  Saturday, I finally got an antique photo of the family.  This was very important to me.  Before chemo, we had an antique photo of the family.  I wanted another to include Joy.  My daughter was upset because we never got to go to the mountain she wanted.  The ride home was a drive against the clock, because I had to work.  I went to work.  I came home and started cleaning.  I got a few hours of sleep.  Sunday, I went to work exhausted.  My husband finished painting.  The new babysitter is not responding to answer my texts or calls.  Sunday, I told my husband to make alternate arrangements.  I was up until 3AM the house was done.  7:30 rolled around.  No babysitter.  For the first time in my life, my in-laws agreed to help.  I told the woman she was fired.  I was suppose to train for the new position.  The trainer ended up late and it all worked out.  I texted my original babysitter about the situation.  She treated me as if I dropped the ball somehow.  I was scheduled for job two at night.  I called them crying telling them that I needed to leave work early.  I was so tired that I got lost in my own city.  What a way to start a new position!  By the end of the day, I had three possible babysitters.

I worked on the birthday party for the rest of the week.  This year, we had a joint party/open house.  Again, I invited everyone to bring them back into our lives.  Somehow, we got alienated between the baby death and my breast cancer.  I have been trying to draw our friends back.  All week, I heard all the excuses.  I survived breast cancer.  I know what my priorities are.  Hope wanted to go to this event and hour away.  I know it was birthday hostess suicide.  Life is about enjoying those girls that I worked so hard for.  It was going to rain anyways.  We couldn’t set up for the party.  He had his last group.  There were 8 baskets of laundry to be folded.  He stay for half of the group and came home to help.  I ran into traffic.  We drove around crazy trying to put everything together.  He comes home and says, “I am going to bed.”

Hope made slime in the basement and dropped corn starch everywhere.  The water slide was bigger than our yard.  My husband tried to set it up.  Hope left the chairs around it.  The moment it went on, it drenched all the chairs.  I am trying to dry them up.  I am yelling this isn’t set up right.  I haven’t been able to shower and I have an odor.  I am screaming for her to clean it up.  I get 2 minutes for a shower.  I am literally throwing this together within the last 15 minutes.  The guests come.  I usually like the food out before hand.  At this point, it is what it is.  Fifteen minutes into the party, I get the water slide to work.

I say to him, can you clean up?  I am emotionally tired at this point.  Only a handful came.  I am still getting excuse texts even after the party.  He puts three things in the refrig and tells me, “I am going to the gym.” I worked the next day.  A neighbor is taking the kids for the next few weeks until school starts.  She couldn’t take them that Monday, so I hired a different babysitter to fill in, so my neighbor could get a mammogram.  I go to work Sunday.  I end up cleaning up Sunday night.

I am emotionally drained.  The babysitter no showing the week caused me to cancel my individual therapy appointment to embrace who my husband is.  I think I really need to get back on track with my life.  If you survived child loss, cancer and infertility, you can understand when I say life is short.  For years, I have been making everything perfect.  I am done with the babysitters.  I am in the middle of starting a new position.  One job did not pay me for this vacation.  I could have used my emergency savings, but I didn’t because I don’t know what will happen.  Am I going to end up a single parent.  I have having problems with both jobs.  I saw an official description of my job and I am listed as an unlicensed professional.  I am wondering if they are not paying me the right wage on purpose.  The other job wants more.  I haven’t had more to give myself a shower never mind more time at a job.  Then, it looks like we are owing taxes again.  Actually, my depression has been better, because I quit whining and went out and made new friends.  Those friend have been about the only ones to make sure I am okay.  Several times, I have been almost ready to cut them off.  My husband appears in-decisive about us moving.  The truth is for me to work longer hours, my oldest needs to live in the same town she goes to school in.

I told my husband to get a loan and finish the house with professionals. I am done at this point.   I work so hard for those girls.  My action plan for myself is the following: 1. sleep, 2. shower, 3. go to the bathroom as needed, 4. go back to running & 5. get involved with the 12 step program.  As for the jobs, for $30,000 a year, is it worth it?  The job that may be underpaying me is going to told to other resolve my issue with my job title or I am not available.  The other job needed my office space on the weekdays, which forced me to work Saturdays.  This is an issue due to activities with my kids.  I may have to start looking to get rid of both jobs.  This is going to hurt, because one I have worked since my daughter was 3 months old.  I am important and I deserve better.  It’s time to start living again.  Isn’t that the point of survivorship?

PS-Hope did have a wonderful birthday in NH.  Friday is my new day off with my new schedule.  Joy had a wonderful birthday too!  She keeps singing happy birthday to herself.  We went to a fair today.  Summer is over.  I feel like I am ready for it to begin.

Frustrated

Summer was not off to a smooth start.  Joy, my youngest has toddler diarrhea.   My oldest will be going to see more specialists about her liver enzymes off and her vertigo.  We can not afford to move to the town where my daughter goes to school.  I work two jobs.  One made promises to accommodate my needing to get and pick up my oldest from school.  I am not seeing the paperwork going through.

Joy needs to be at a new daycare.  In the 17 months she was at the same one,  she had 5 different lead teachers.  I have witness one toddler push her to the ground repeatedly.  Her last day, the written was on the wall.  My oldest didn’t want to go to an art camp.  So, I hired someone who worked for the school system to babysit both the girls at a flat rate.  This person is worth more than I can afford.  Childcare takes over half my pay to pay.  I work in human services, so I can expect to earn between $30,000 and $40,000 full time.  Remember, I have been doing this 14 years.  I love the field.  I give up dreams of being rich.  I work about 30 hours per week. After fighting cancer, infertility and infant loss, I am spending time with those two girls, who I fought so hard for.

I can go to one job and quit the other. I will loose $200 a pay period.  I am trying so hard to get our family out of the 100 most violent cities in America.  There is a price difference between the city I live and the town Hope goes to school.  If I sell this house, we need a bigger mortgage to get in that town.  Chances are after all this hard work to fix my house, we can only afford a fixer upper.  We have been painting the kitchen.  We are literally tripping over stuff to remodel.  My house needs a few remodeling expenses like a new bathroom to sell it, which we can’t afford.

I am between a rock and a hard place.  There is no public transportation between the town my daughter goes to school in and where we live.  I don’t think she is quite ready to stay home by herself.  I work too far away to take a lunch break late and go pick her up.  If she returned to our city schools, she would be badly bullied.  One job is open to split shifts.  The other job made promises the paperwork didn’t show up.  When I try to talk to them, they just say it’s too far away.  That job requires a two month notice.  I sent them an email saying I need to know now.  I find myself struggling with between finances, work and parenting responsibility.

Yesterday was my daughter’s recital. I decided to reach out to my in-laws.  I finally told them how much I earn for a living and the costs of childcare.  These guys come with a warning sign, “emotionally out of order.” For years, they have caring for free my sister-in-law’s kids, who is a high paying nurse. Her former spouse scammed thousands of dollars from them.  She is their favorite.  My father-in-law pissed me off.  He said to me, “your mother did it and you will too.” Swears flooded my brain but the kids were there.  My mother died a horrible death.  She left me in care of my siblings who were abusive.  So, once again, they are not available.

This weekend has been stressful.  After many years of fighting infertility, I am very aware of my length of cycle.  It didn’t come.  I said is this a joke?  I found myself day dreaming of an accidental pregnancy, which is impossible.  Today, we tried to start a dog walking group.  No one showed.  I have been having so many difficulties with heavy bleeding and long cycles.  Last month, I made it a point to try to sleep at least 7 hours per night.  I also took vitamins. People have been telling me that I sound perimenopausal. I took a pregnancy test.  It was negative.  I flunked in the accidentally pregnancy accident department.  I found myself grieving again. I began to fantasize it was menopause and the nightmare of heavy bleeding was over.    Four days late, guess what came today.

My brain is tired from crunching the numbers.  I am worried about my relationship with others.  There is no afterschool program for Hope, who is going into middle school.  That’s about $50 per week we save.  Today, I paid the deposit for Joy to start a home daycare program that follows the school year.

Money is money.  People can never be replaced.  We have food to eat and a home.  Everyone is healthy that I am aware of.  The mother of Hope and Joy is going to have hope that an answer prevails soon and joy returns to the home.

Through The Briers: A Rose Was Found!

My ear has been throbbing away since the biopsy.  After all these days of worry, good news prevailed!  The lab report was normal! Whew!  The polyps in February and this cyst on my Breast Cancer Survivor Anniversary all points to time to take better care of yourself.  Next time may not be a warning shot!  Tomorrow is the Friday before Memorial Day, my anniversary of breast cancer.  It’s raining here, but sunscreen will be top priority this summer!  Time to celebrate with walkless events with the family!

Briers For My 7th Breast Cancer Anniversary

Our family has been facing some medical issues recently.  I took a break from remodeling.  Sadly, my schedule on days off have been very booked.  The family ferret has insulinoma (caner of the pancreas).  She has required multiple trips to the vet to check her sugar levels.  My oldest daughter has been having dizzy spells.  I feel like a cab.

Since the family vacation in April, I found a lump on the top of my ear near the skin connecting to my head.  It has seriously hurt, when I wear glasses.  I thought this is a cyst.  For weeks now, I have been trying a number of home remedies to get rid of it.

I had surgery to remove a number of polyps from my uterus in February.  I was having heavy bleeding and 21 day cycles.  Last week, the heavy bleeding returned.  I got up and left stains everywhere.  So, I called the OB GYN.  They made an appointment for this week.

On the same afternoon, my phone rings again. My daughter’s doctor office called with a neurology appointment for Tuesday, which is the same day as my OB GYN appointment.  This neurology appointment is in the morning.  The OB GYN appointment is in the afternoon.  Both are hour drives in the opposite direction.  I thought no problem.

Monday was my physical.  I had been suffering with the bump on my ear for awhile.  I had to take the youngest with me, since my husband took Tuesday morning to go to my oldest daughter’s appointment.  I showed him my ear.  He felt a Ears, Nose and Throat Specialist should look at it.  He was concerned about skin cancer and if it should be biopsy.  Cancer again?

My toddler fell asleep on the drive home.  I sat in the driveway in disbelief.  My phone rings again.  The specialist can see me mid morning on Tuesday.  I felt so emotional drained.  Yes, I do have my girls and my husband.  There is just no family involved in our lives.  There isn’t an aunt or a grandmother to call for help with the kids.  It’s in these situations, I feel very isolated and alone.  (My last C-section erupted with an argument with my in-laws about who was going to take care of my oldest.  I actually mentally prepared to go into a C-section by myself with no support.) I couldn’t ask them for help.  I spoke to a few friends about the lump on my ear.  It made me feel slightly better.

Worst of all, I have been working Monday and Tuesday nights at my other job.   The neurology appointment for my daughter made me anxious.  I buried two babies due to a rare disease.  There was another part of me that knew this was routine.  My recent surgery on the polyps reminded me how alone I am.  I am running all over the place.  I got my glasses tighten.  Hope, my oldest, was anxious about the state exams and the neurologist appointment.  I promise to take her to one of her activity stores.  I spoke to my medical oncologist, who said I couldn’t have a hormonal IUD for cycle control due to my previous history of breast cancer.  Some of the IUD’s can thin and make a cycle quicker.  We also talked about my ear.

Tuesday morning at the neurologist appointment, it was a bit of a rough start.  I am staring at this genetic history form and I am tired, drained and overwhelmed.  I am telling her it’s not a good day to ask me if I am in good physical health.  Another cancer diagnosis my happen again.  Finally, I said, “I am struggling with this form.  Our family is the first documented genetic carriers of a rare disease.”  The person, we met with softened.  All sudden, I felt she got it.  Basically, Hope was diagnosis with Vertigo.  They want us to see a Ears, Nose and Throat Specialist to rule out allergies.  One appointment down. My husband asked to work from home to cover all these doctor appointments.  My toddler is very active.  He takes Hope to school.

I call my aunt, who is 80 something.  She sounds horrible and wheezy due to a cold.  I go to check on her.  I meet the Ears, Nose and Throat Specialist and explain all the appointments I am going through.  She was very understanding.  She told me that the lump looks like a cyst, but it should be biopsy.  She explained if it is cancer or not cancer, it needs to be removed only.  More good news.

I decide to drive home and drop by to see the toddler after eating lunch at my favorite bakery from my childhood memories.  I am wiped out.  I figure I better update the school nurse.  She says to me, “your daughter landed wrong on stage. She is here now.” Now, I know I have to take this kid to the walk in clinic after school.  My ear starts throbbing bad from the biopsy.

The OB GYN appointment was okay.  There is little they can do to control this bleeding.  I leave and I go to check out.  There is a couple sitting down talking with check out.  I go up to the other window a few times.  No one comes.  So, I give them their space.  All of sudden, a medical receptionist screams at me, “is someone hiding in the hall.”

So, I corrected her.  I told her, ” I am not hiding.  I have been at the window twice and no one is paying attention.” It’s been a miserable day.  I hate doctors.  I am at the end of my rope.  My ear is really throbbing.  No painkiller is touching it. When the receptionist is checking me out, I am telling her to retell me the information.   I called my boss and asked to go in to complete my work and leave early.  She agrees.  I can’t miss work since I have no vacation or sick time.

I can’t go to another doctor.  I just can’t.  So, I called my husband and told him to take the oldest to the doctor’s.  I got good news mostly.  I felt so emotionally drained today.  My oldest has a groin injury and she can not walk.  I spent half the night finding other things for our family to do this Memorial Day Weekend that require no walking.

I have come a long way since starting this blog.  I stopped complaining and I am doing things to improve my life.  I am making friends.  I am aware I can’t discuss my baby loss issues with them either.  I tried to get out once a month with my friends to take care of myself.

It was the Friday before Memorial Day that I was diagnosis with breast cancer.  It brought new meaning to LONG WEEKEND.  Today, I finally told my oldest what is going on with the ear.  It was so hard this morning because she was in so much pain and I work during the days Wednesdays through Fridays.  Even if I could stay home, she would have missed the state exams.  She had to go to school.  My ear just throbbed today due to the biopsy.  I am hoping for better days.  I am also taking this as a warning sign to take better care of myself such as count my steps, quit smoking and sleep right.

Gratitude For My M.O.M: All I Learned My Babies Taught Me

Mother’s Day is tough.  Many have lost children.  Some face infertility. Others have lost their mothers.   I am very lucky to have my children.  I have been pregnant seven times in my life.  I have two living girls.  In my twenties, I studied hard and worked hard to get a career.  Nothing in life prepare me for what was ahead.

In 2010, we learned we were the first documented case in the world for carrying a rare disease.  Nothing in the universe prepared me to hold my first born child, then end life support the next day.  I had never watched a human die before.  Months afterwards, I remembered over and over.  I became obsessed with is there an afterlife or God.  I tried to reach out to others.  My soul begged, please just hug me and love me.  People misjudged this.  I was told to get over it…  I planned my entire pregnancy.  I brought things.  I took my folic acid three months before hand. I went to the doctors.  I toured churches looking for that perfect family church.  I went to the OB GYN.  I made sure all dental work was complete.  When we learned our baby had multiple birth defects, it tore me apart.  Although not every pregnancy had a happy ending with us bringing home a baby, I appreciate and give thanks for each one.  I am forever their mom.

My first born Avery died a day after birth in our arms.  I wanted to take her place so bad.  Avery barely opened her eyes.  When we spoke to her, her head would turn and she would look for us.  I nicked named her Avery Bravery.  In my darkest moments in life, when I need to be brave, I whisper, “Avery Bravery.”

My first rainbow is 11 years old.  She gets so excited and happy.  She still happy dances.  I have so many wonderful memories.  I am filled with her love and wisdom.  At times, she says things with such great wisdom as if she is 11 going on 80.  Her name is Hope.  I love to see her dance with such gratitude and grace.  Hope fills me with Hope.  Every day, I see a young lady growing up fast.  I am honored that her care as been entrusted to me.  I am proud of her.

I wish a rainbow meant it would never happen again.  Sadly, we lost a pregnancy at 6 weeks and 13 weeks.  I love them from the moment, I tried for them.  My heart was empty.  They were mine for the time they were here.  I desperately tried and lost them.  They are apart of my being.

At 18 weeks, we lost our son Haven.  For weeks, we did not know if we lost a boy or a girl.  We had to name him something either a boy or girl could use.  Years later, unknown to me, I was gathering medical reports.  In the pathology report, it questioned if Haven had been a twin.  I found myself grieving two babies.  I could not hold him because  he had been dead over a week.  We buried a baby without knowing if it was a boy or girl.

My miscarriage at 13 weeks as previous mentioned in the blog was at Christmas time.  Shortly after Christmas, I was outside crying and shoveling snow.  I heard an animal crying horribly.  Under my neighbor’s porch was a all black kitten with a small patch in the shape of a heart on his chest.  He had an abscess on his neck.  We took this kitten in with the intention of finding a new family.  The kitten was estimated with the actual birthday of Haven’s original due date in September.  We named the cat Raven.  When I tried to give this cat away, Hope said, “my cat.”  She was 2 years old at the time.  Raven is like Tigger from Winnie the Pooh.  He gets so excited that he pounces on you.  As small as he is, he can almost knock the wind out of you.  It broke my heart, when I had breast cancer, because literally I need to put Raven in a room because he would pounce on my chest or treatment area so hard.

This leads me to my daughter Addison.  She was born still with the same rare disease that the doctor’s said it would most likely never happen again a week before Thanksgiving in 2009.  My heart broke as I watched Hope, who was 4 year old cry.  For many years afterwards, Hope took it hard when she learned someone at school became a big sister.  She asked when it was going to be our turn.

Eight years of infertility and pregnancy losses, I am happy to say it was with Joy that Joy was born.  At 20 months, she has taught me a lot.  She is not sitting in her highchair what so ever until she gives Buddy, our dog, a treat.  She is going to strap herself in.  Joy is still trying to change her own diaper.  She is independent and going to be an outstanding CEO someday as soon as we survive toddlerhood.  She is your classic toddler with a heart of gold.  Over half of my steps on my pedometer are from chasing her.  Keep reaching for that cell phone or keys, because sooner or later when no one is looking she gets them.  Set goals and reach them.  Life is adventure.

I have said this before.  Without seeing all my babies, it’s like I am a painting at a museum half covered.  If you look at my professional accomplishments only, you miss the picture.  If you see me as a breast cancer survivor only, you miss the picture.  If you only see me as the mother to my two Earth girls, you miss the picture.  You see the whole me, when you can acknowledge everything.  Without one piece, you miss the picture.   I carry my love always.  My gratitude is to be alive to see another Mother’s Day and to all my babies, who chose me to be their mom.

#NIAW2017 Our story: The Journey of Hope & Joy

I am going to write a letter of thanks to women and men, who are donors.  Before I do, I am going to write a brief summary of our journey.  Fourteen years ago, we decided it was time for a family.  Before being pregnant, I glowed.  The year before we tried, I made sure everything was done.  I visited churches looking for the perfect family church.  I made sure I was healthy.  I brought baby items.  It was time for a baby.  I was so naïve at my precious age of 28.  I thought couples had sex and you just got pregnant.  I completely knew nothing of ovulation and timing.  It was disappointing the first month, we tried.  Nothing.  So, I read online how to get pregnant.  I got ovulation kits and within one month, boom we were pregnant.  At 9 weeks, I had a threatened miscarriage.  I woke up bleeding.  My husband and I headed hysterical to the ER.  The baby was okay.  We made it to the traditional 12 week mark and made the big announcement.  I say this with tears we were so innocent.  At the 18 week ultra sound, we were joking around and laughing.  We were play arguing about if we should learn the baby’s gender.  We were so excited.  The day after the ultra sound, we were heading to London for our honey moon (We couldn’t afford when we got married.  Life was great!

The ultra sound tech didn’t say much.  We were in a good mood.  After the ultra sound, I remarked to my husband, we didn’t get a picture.  The doctor called us in.  I said, “we never got a picture.”

The doctor looked grim. “The baby has multiple birth defects.  I don’t think the baby is going to live long enough to reach birth.” She said.

I can’t remember much after that. I remember screaming “no” like my soul was being shredded into pieces.  I remember falling and the doctor catching me to make sure my head didn’t hit the counter.  We were left through a back door to an immediate appointment in Boston.  I couldn’t stop crying and calling people.  We got the hospital and my husband had to lead me across the parking garage, because I couldn’t find the elevator.  At the hospital, they asked me for my license and for several minutes, I would go into my purse and couldn’t remember what I was looking for.  I begged them at the hospital to tell me that the baby just had Down Syndrome.  I had an amniocentesis test.  I asked them for a picture of the baby.

I came home.  My husband asked if we should cancel the trip.  I looked at him and said, “If the baby is to die before birth, then let’s show the baby the world.” We did go to London during the Bush demonstrations.  I couldn’t talk or breath.  I spent all my money (our cell phones did not work.) on the payphone trying to learn news.  The stress was so high.  We went to the wax museum.  One of the rides took our picture.  In the picture, it was a couple with broken hearts.  I never brought the picture.  I refused to have my picture taken the entire trip.   I went to Westminster Abbey, I kneed before every statue begging for our baby’s life.

Avery was diagnosis with Campomelic Dysplasia. We went through all the trisomy diagnoses.   I was born a rare disease mother.  People voiced their opinions about what we should do.  Our baby was becoming  was becoming a symbol for others about arguments for social issues instead of our baby and our choice.  She was born prematurely.   Avery died a day after birth.  I had never witness a human die.  I felt strong guilt for agreeing to do not resuscitate orders.  I never doubt there was a God.  As I watched Avery struggle for each breathe.  I became obsessed with is there an afterlife? I began to doubt God.  Many friends ended their friendships with us.  I think I hang out with a lot of emotional abusive people.  My own brother screamed at me for crying because, “this was my fault for not listening to the doctors.”

I had flash backs.  I finally left my job because they couldn’t get that I couldn’t be around babies.  I was getting flooded with memories of my baby’s last breath. When I reached out, I was told I was doing this for attention.  So on my last day of work, I did a very brave thing.  Someone brought in a baby.  I asked to hold it.  The memories were flooding me.  I held my composure.  The second, I was out of their sight.  I bite down on my fingers and sobbed wildly.  I kept trying to get pregnant over and over.  One negative pregnancy test after another.  I attended every one of the recommended doctors appointments and I was assured it was a most likely a fluke of nature.  Campomelic Dysplasia was usual thought of to be passed on by a parent with the condition.  Since neither of us had dwarfism or seemed to have dwarfism.  The other way was either my husband  or I had a genetic problem with sperm or eggs.  I was jobless and babyless.  At times, I told my husband that I no longer wanted to work in the field that I loved.  Thanksgiving day, I kneeled before Avery’s grave and begged for help.  I was no longer with the children that worked with and loved.  My Avery died.  My uterus was empty.  So, I kept applying for jobs in and outside my field.  I was going to a fertility center for tests.  Then, on December 1st, 2004, I learned I was pregnant.  My mother-in-law and I wrapped the test as a birthday present for my husband.  I started a new job.  Being pregnant again was not easy.  I played loud happy music to keep my anxiety down.  On August 11th, 2005, our daughter Hope was born.  I didn’t know if she was a boy or girl.  We stopped asking the gender question and gave thanks for a healthy child.

My brother and sister disappeared from my life.  They are very emotional abusive.  My sister was hiding her own pregnancy.  She said to me, when I upon me telling her the news of my pregnancy. “If you miscarry, I don’t want to hear of you crying. Miscarriages are away of getting rid of genetically inferior babies.  We don’t want genetically inferior babies in the world.”

I learned quickly that I couldn’t continue a relationship with my siblings.  It raised my anxiety.  So I let them go.  Weeks before Hope’s birth, they came back.  I was so positive.  Sadly, we hired the wrong medical team for our daughter.  I did not know my brother had physically threaten one of the doctors, when his son  was diagnosis with Asperger’s syndrome.  This doctor was on a revenge quest.  He treated me differently when I was alone.  He was sickly sweet when my husband was around.  It ended up being a blow up.  My brother calling me all hours of the night to call me, “a liar.” I took Hope to a different doctor.  Would you not know they were affiliated with that other practice.  I considered walking away from my husband and child thinking I was the problem.  I could go to doctor appointments alone.  Finally, when Hope was about 2, I had to ask myself who was paying who with the doctors.  Hope is a straight A and beautiful young lady.  She has a new doctor team and there is no problems.  Sadly, my niece around Hope’s age was born to my sister has several developmental delays.

I could write a book.  I was so convinced our losses were over.  When Hope was 11 months old, I decided to have another baby.  My in-laws felt I shouldn’t try because my husband’s sister was trying to start a family.  I got pregnant.  One nap time, Hope’s cross fell and broke in half.  I felt a strong urge to go to the bathroom.  I was bleeding.  I had a natural miscarriage at 6 weeks.  We tried again at New Year’s time.  The baby was developing normal.  At the 18 weeks ultra sound, I was told the baby had no heart beat.  It was my son Haven, who we could never hold.  He had died silently at 16 weeks.

I began to not tell anyone.  We ended back at the fertility specialist for recurrent pregnancy loss.  We had another genetic consult and we were given the same information.  They couldn’t find any problems.  There was a fade theory about MFTHR genes causing blood clots.  I went on Folic Acid and blood thinners.  I had to pay an co-payment of $300 dollars for the blood thinners. We got pregnant again.  It was Christmas time and at 11 weeks, I was told the ultra sound was normal.  A few days before Christmas, there was no heart beat at 13 weeks.  The baby was estimated to have died days after the 11 weeks ultrasound.  I had a D&C two days before Christmas.  We were heart broken.  Everyone was celebrating the holidays, my husband and I were in tears.  The doctor offices were closed.

Shortly after Christmas, I was crying and shoveling the snow off my car.  I heard a kitten crying.  It was 2007.  Lots of people were loosing their homes.  I called out to the kitten, it came to me.  I showed my husband.  We agreed to try to locate the owners later.  My neighbor informed us that the cat was abandoned due to a foreclosure.  We agreed to give the cat a home until an adoptive family could be found.  The cat had a huge abscess on his neck.  New Year’s Eve, I found myself in a vet clinic getting this poor animal help.  I explained we were considering adopting a child and we would care for the cat until a new home could be found.  I spent my New Year’s playing nurse with this cat, who was recovering from surgery.  Strangely enough, the kitten was born around the time, my son, who I lost at 18 weeks, should have been born.  My energy went into finding the cat a home.  A manger at the pet store agreed to adopt the cat.  I was explaining to my 2 years old that the kitten found a home.  She looked at me and said, “my cat!”

I called the manager at the pet store and apologized.  We kept the cat.  He was an all black cat with a white heart on his chest.  My baby’s name was Haven, who died at 18 weeks.  For weeks, we didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl.  I named him Haven because it was a unisex name.  I thought of him safely with his sister.  We named the cat Raven, who by the way absolutely flies through the house to snuggle me.  He is all muscle.  When he jumps on your lap, it’s like when Tigger pounces in Winnie the Pooh.  Trust me, he loves to walk all over you.

For months, I couldn’t get pregnant again.  My husband’s sperm count and quality was low.  We were told we need IVF-ICIS.  (They shoot the sperm into an egg.) The year was 2009, it was tough financial times.  My husband’s bank was sold.  The health insurance covered IVF because it was in a mandatory state for infertility coverage.  However, the pharmacy insurance came from a state without coverage.  It was getting hard to have childcare for Hope for doctor appointments.  I decided to return to work full time, because we needed to pay for the medication out of pocket.  I felt it would be quick and I would have another baby.  So, we finally paid $3000 for the medication through taxes.  Everything look so positive.  I ended up not pregnant.  I didn’t even have enough meds for another cycle.  My husband sperm count returned to normal.  I was crying so hard.  Months of work for no baby.  We began to try again on our own.

On our 10th wedding anniversary, I was very upset and angry.  I learned I was pregnant again.  I was terrified.  All the tests were normal.  At the 18 weeks ultra sound, a resident told me she needed the doctor to sign off on her work.  The doctor returned and told us that the baby had multiple birth defects.  The night mare happened again.  We had after years of genetic tests, conceived another baby with Campomelic Dysplasia named Addison. I rented in this pregnancy a dropper.  One morning, there was no heart beat.  I was induced the week before Thanksgiving.  I lost my job later that year.  Lucky for me, a previous employer hired me.  Avery’s blood in 2004 was flown to Germany to confirm her diagnosis.  The United States had open a lab.

The geneticist recommended we both get tested.  My test was negative.  It was thought that two recessive genes could cause Campomelic Dysplasia.  We decided to start trying in-home inseminations with donor sperm.  At this time, our health insurance was in another state without mandatory coverage.  We tried one cycle.  I began to notice blood on my bra.  I thought a milk duct infection due to Addison’s still birth.

The doctors discovered a lump in my breast.  It became clear that there was a great chance of breast cancer.  The Friday before Memorial Day, I was told I had breast cancer.  No insurance will cover the cost of fertility preservation.  Since it also could have been one of us making our eggs or sperm wrong, which is impossible to test for, I chose to pay for fertility preservation.  My husband’s blood work was lost.  On the day I had my lymph nodes removed for breast cancer, he had his blood drawn.  I started chemo.  The doctors agreed to let me try to use Lupron to save my ovaries.  It put me into medical menopause.  I had chemo and medical menopause.  I was able to work full time mostly.  Two weeks after chemo was started, the test results came back.  We were the first case in the world to be documented with one genetic carrier.  I could have used my eggs.  It was too late.

My mother died half way into chemo from natural causes.  I found her dead.  I brought a bib that said my mother is a breast cancer survivor.  I wanted to hold on to my dream of another baby.  In 10 months, I lost my baby, got diagnosis with breast cancer and lost my mother.  I would bring the bib to every cancer treatment.  I would cry into the bib.  Somehow someway, I was going to be a mother.  My relationship with my in-laws fell apart.  My sister-in-law declined my offer to be a surrogate mother, which I understood.  During Hope’s 5th birthday party, I learned she had a baby named Maddison.  The names sound so similar.  After breast cancer treatment, I began to have anxiety attacks.  The thought would just enter my head, my daughter died.  I also had flash backs of Addison’s death and my mother’s death.  An old obsession resurfaced.  Is there a God and afterlife.  Six months later, I tried to go back to fertility treatment.  I was told to wait for a year.

I started buying donor sperm through a bank and tried to inseminate myself at home.  Finally enough time elapsed, so I could return to fertility treatment.  The two IUI’s failed.  We tried 3 rounds of IVF.  My husband only accepted job offers with companies who we checked out their health insurance.  In March 2014, I failed my last IVF cycle with my eggs and donor sperm.  We had been looking into all options for egg donation.  Please note either egg or sperm donation is covered in any state.  I started looking into options out of state.  In my home state, it was $50,000.  I found an embryo donation program on the west coast that combined donor egg and donor sperm for embryo donation.  Please note this is not left over IVF embryos.  I began to fly out.  I had to keep everything hush, hush.  It was rumored that I was moving to the West Coast by friends and family.

The first cycle failed.  I tried a fresh cycle, which wasn’t easy.  IVF is hard for us.  We have to come up with excuses.  It was really hard to explain why I had to just pack up and fly out.  On August 25, 2015, I had gave birth to my daughter Joy.  She is a beautiful classic toddler.  Infertility was 13 years of my life.  I don’t miss the silent tears of a failed cycle.  I don’t miss googling if standing on my head will make me pregnant.  I don’t miss trying to stand on my head.

I stayed in the field that I loved.  I was able to return to working with children.  I have a specialization in substance abuse counseling.  My job is mom first.  I have been able to find jobs to work around my children’s schedules.

I don’t forgot my journey.  I try to be available to other families with rare diseases.  I tell my story.  Not for pity.  I tell my story in the hopes of someday, we find more cures for breast cancer, infertility and rare disease.  I want there to be a day that I hear Ms. C, Avery and Addison would have had better quality of life if they lived now.  I don’t want other couples to be the first in the world.  I am mostly agnostic now.  I have trying to catch up on building friendships and making my own family.  I accept my family and in-laws as they are.  I also believe I am the captain of my soul.  I made a promise to God that I would use my breast cancer status to improve life for those with infertility and rare disease.  I also try to advocate for cancer patients.  Most of all, I am mom first.