Make 'em laugh!

A day without laughter is a day wasted. - Charlie Chaplin

This past week Husband and I have done a lot of laughing. Maybe it's because I was gone for a week with my mama in Miami and we missed each other terribly. Nevertheless - we've laughed a ton; watching our favorite shows or movie; dancing goofy to music; or just poking fun at each other. It's been so ... refreshing.

I met Husband in college through a mutual friend (Thanks, Nate!). While Husband didn't talk very much whenever Nate and I would run into him - he sure did smile a lot. Thus I coined the term "Smiling Baffoon" No, not the most complimentary nickname but it stuck. Then one day, I actually got to talk with Husband and He. Was. Hilarious. I swear I didn't stop laughing for most of the night. Not only is Husband a good looking fellow (biased!) but he has the BEST sense of humor. He'll whip out these one line zingers that I still laugh at years later. His perspective is so different from mine that he'll pick things out I never thought of - and then we'll laugh hysterically together. Love. It.

I'm naturally a goofy person and I adore the fact that Husband appreciates my goofiness and goes along with me. Together, we are one ridiculous couple.

Today and this week - I hope your world is filled with laughter. Go watch a funny movie (I can't wait for The Dictator to come out!) or read a funny book. Or just people watch. There is always something funny in that.

Good times.

A sense of humor ... is needed armor. Joy in one's heart and some laughter on one's lips is a sign that the person deep down has a pretty good grasp on life. - Hugh Sidey

Everybody laughs in the same language because laughter is a universal connection. - Yakov Smirnoff

~M

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall ...

It's been five days since my D&C. Big props to St. Luke's Hospital's Women's Surgery group - they rock. They were so sweet with me and made me feel at ease. The only truly physical pain I had was getting the IV in my hand (OW!!). But I was always wrapped in warm blankets and they would stop to tell me they were sorry I was here. Their understanding and empathy was just wonderful - and helped to calm me.

I then spent the rest of the week and through the weekend laying around in my cozy robe. The drugs they gave me lasted all day Thursday - but when Friday hit ... good lawd. It was intense. I was pounding Advil b/c I didn't want to take the heavy duty pain killer they gave me. ick.

And, of course, I cried. I cried when I came out of surgery. I cried on the way home. I REALLY cried the next day when the pain was at it's peak. Saturday I forced myself to leave the house and get a facial. (It was lovely). I pushed Husband out the door Saturday night so he could go meet up with his buddies. I can only imagine how he probably needed to get out of our house. I was (kinda still am...) a huge buzz kill. One person can handle only so much crying and robe wearing.

I'm back at work now. Still bleeding and still uncomfortable but I thought I was getting better until I looked at myself in the mirror last night. Good. God. I swear I look like Humpty Dumpty. My belly looks like an egg. I seriously look like I've gained 20 pounds and it's all in my middle. Cue the tears.

As I'm crying - Husband wants to know what is wrong. "I look like Humpty Dumpty!" I wail and bury my face back in my kleenex. Husband hesitated, wondering if he heard me right. "Um ... Humpty Dumpty?" he asks. "Yes!" I cry (and/or sob). And then I finally look at him. He's trying not to laugh at me. He's got that grin you get when you are desperately trying not to laugh out loud. And of course, I get mad and rip of robe. "Look at my stomach! Look how huge I look!" He stares at me - "I don't see anything."

Oh bless his heart, my lying Husband. He's supposed to say that! If he was like "Holy crap! You're huge!" that would have just caused more tears and disasters. He answered correctly but I still told him he's supposed to say he doesn't see anything b/c he's my husband. And then I stomped off to finish my pitiful cry on the couch.

I called the doctor this morning because if you go on the internet it always gives you a diagnosis one step away from death. My humpty dumpty appearance isn't totally normal - but I just might be retaining water. Drink gatorade they tell me. I rather poke my eye out. I cannot handle gatorade after my two weeks of drinking nothing but (remember back in September?)... So I call Mom. Vitamin Mom to the rescue! She researches and finds that if I take like 10 gazillion pills of alfalfa - it will help. I'll just pee a lot. Okay. That I can handle. Heading to Whole Foods asap.

The fun just never ends, eh?

I was trying to explain to Husband how this experience has made me feel and I thought of two words: defective and broken. Kind of one in the same ... Women are made to bear children. And here I am unable to do the one thing I am made to do. I feel unwomanly and like a failure. And then you play the what if game ... What if we started sooner? What if we went straight to IUI instead of wasting our time trying to conceive as naturally as we could? It's just an endless cycle. And so not worth it. I'm trying to get out of my black cloud. I know I'm not fun to be around. I haven't really enjoyed being around me either!

Mom and I head to Miami on Saturday for our annual Mommy/Daughter trip. And it's supposed to rain EVERY DAY we are there. Figures. But at least it will be warm and rainy there rather than cold and rainy here. I'm looking forward to just getting away with my mom and being around another woman. I straight up just want my mommy.

So I'm taking it one day at a time. Wearing lots of leggings with longer tops thanks to my Humpty Dumpty syndrome. I'm hoping I feel somewhat like myself soon. This is just pure misery. I truly, truly hope that I never never never never ever have to go through this again. [shudder].

~M

Amazing Husband

I have to brag about Husband. He is, quite simply, amazing. More and more I realize just how amazing he is - through each of our trials and bumps in our journey ... He. Is. Amazing.

I was reminded (again) of this these past few weeks. To update you from my last post ... I got pregnant! I took a test and the nurses called and I was overcome with joy. I mean squeal and run around the room giggling like a maniac joy. I left work immediately and drove the 25 minutes to Husband's work where I blubbered all over him trying to tell him we were pregnant while everyone he works with was leaving the office for lunch and staring at us. (He was slightly embarrassed ...) I then drove the 30 minutes to my parent's house screaming "MOM! MOOOOOOMMMMMM!" Until I found her and then blubbered all over her and my dad.

It was wonderful. Husband walked around with a bit of a dumbfounded look on his face like this is really happening. And would nod and smile at me when I insisted that my belly was growing and I needed cute maternity clothes asap. We started talking names. Husband would rub my belly every night before bed. I bought tons of books and would read them out loud to Husband (who is not a fan of reading). We started planning and talking of our future and of the year to come. It was just lovely.

At six weeks, we headed to the doctor to get our first ultrasound. We'd get to see the heart beat and do a check up. Talk about excited! We walked into the hospital holding hands and I teased Husband that we may have twins. It was so fun. Then the ultrasound. No heartbeat. And the fetus was super small. I laid on the table and cried for 15 minutes while the (insensitive) ultrasound lady took a gazillion pictures. And then we heard the news we already knew: failed pregnancy.

I (somewhat) held it together while we were in the doctor's office. But the minute we got to the car - I sobbed. Wracking, silent crying at times sobs. Husband just sat with me and held my hand. I called my mom and sobbed some more. Bless her heart - she called everyone we had told so I wouldn't have to. The rest of the day had me sobbing at random times; usually out of the blue. Husband would just hold me or scratch my back, rub my hair ... I was so wrapped up in myself and how I was feeling that I never thought to ask if he was okay. I finally came to my senses when I saw him crying with me at one point. My body has to go through the miscarriage - but Husband has to watch it all unfold (and feel helpless). I don't know if one is worse than the other.

Tomorrow I get a suction D&C where they will suction out my uterus lining and test the tissue to see if it can tell us anything. I will bleed (a lot). And we won't be able to try to conceive until April. APRIL. Needless to say - I'm bumming hard core.

But Husband ... wonderful, amazing Husband. He has been right by my side this ENTIRE time. He takes time away from work, he stays home, he sits next to me for long periods of time to hold me when I cry. He makes me laugh. He get's me out of my blue mood. In a nutshell, he's been my rock; my anchor. I honestly have taken him for granted. What is second hat to me b/c Husband is like this all the time - is not necessarily true for everyone else. I am horribly, horribly spoiled by him.

And if he is this amazing with me - don't you think he will be the best gosh darn father, ever?!?! Yes. Yes he will.

So this post is a tribute to my husband. Who makes me laugh, makes me feel sexy, is sweet, KIND, funny as hell, super handsome, and a sexy beast. :) I truly, truly love him.

~M