Today brought on a massive feeling of utter defeat.

Back in January, I completely went off my migraine medicine. In March, I went off my birth control. I stopped taking as many pain relievers as I could. I gave up my allergy pills. I started taking prenatal vitamins. All of this in hopes that I would prepare my body for pregnancy and get rid of any of the crap I had been taking in pill form for multiple years.

Then I had a miscarriage. But I still marched on and figured I would continue with the prenatals and still stay away from everything else.

Then I talked to my doctor today. I posted before that I was going to see my rheumatologist again due to some weird pains I had been having and the fact that she had been keeping an eye on my blood work for possible symptoms of Lupus. And since women with Lupus can have a tendency to miscarry, I wanted to go talk to her now more then ever. Well, she said the blood results came back and there were a host of things that came back negative, but she did say that my thyroid was a bit high and that my ANA levels were still positive. Positive ANA levels are an indication of some sort of auto-immune disease.

She can’t really say for sure right now what exactly is going on. But I felt my heart hit the floor when she told me that I definitely have something and she wants to put me on medicine to try and regulate it. Although she assures me that the medicine is safe to take while I’m pregnant (if that happens anytime in the future), it scares me. The whole point of me not taking any medication was so that my body would be ready for a baby. And now she wants to feed more medicine into me. But who knows? I could take this medicine, regulate my antibodies and go on to be happy, healthy and carry a baby. However, being the pessimist that I am at this point in time, I can only help but think that I’m doomed to a life of medication and no children.

I don’t want to be on medicine forever. I don’t want to be dependent on some drug. I want to go back to five years ago and never have to go to the doctor for any of this in the first place.


Silver and Gold

Love that U2 song.

Anyways. I have spent the last 4 days watching nothing but Olympic coverage. I record everything, so even if I’m watching it, it’s recording. Just in case I miss something and have to go back to see it all over again. Saturday morning started it all – I watched the opening ceremonies (recorded!) from the night before. I seriously think I was on my couch for 8 straight hours.

I have to admit though, I stayed up last night to watch the women’s gymnastics final and… wow. I seriously was in tears by the end of it. Seeing those girls get so happy and excited because USA JUST WON GOLD IN WOMEN’S GYMNASTICS!!! Jordyn Weiber got a bit of redemption for being knocked out of the all-around – she did freaking fantastic on her floor exercise. I was just so happy for them.

My mind is numb, all I see are people swimming, people flipping in the air, people rowing by… I think I need an Olympic break. Hubby is actually enjoying it though, because he doesn’t care in the least about any of this stuff, so he spends all his time playing Xbox now.

I don’t think I’ll be getting my break from Olympics today though – I have my doctor’s appointment this afternoon with my rheumatologist. After getting poked, prodded, stuck with a needle and peeing in a cup, I’m going to be ready to head home and do nothing all afternoon. Looking forward to it actually.

I do have to get dinner started – tonight’s agenda: fish and veggies. It’s Broiled Parmesan Tilapia. Which is really very good. And only 177 calories per piece. Which is necessary seeing as how I have gained 2 pounds since yesterday. TWO POUNDS!! In a day! How is that even possible? Yes, I know I went slightly over my calorie allowance yesterday, but good lord. I didn’t eat that much food!! I was so disappointed when I got on the scale. Here’s the breakdown of what I’ve been losing:

July 23: started back up on the diet (weighed for “starting” weight which was a couple pounds higher then when I started this way back when)

July 24: lost 0.2 pounds (no total since I was above my first starting weight, sigh)

July 25: lost 0.6 pounds (no total since I was above my first starting weight, sigh)

July 26: lost 0.6 pounds (down 0.2 from initial starting weight)

July 27: lost 0.6 pounds (down 0.8 from initial starting weight)

July 28: lost 0.8 pounds (down 1.6 from initial starting weight)

July 29: lost 0.4 pounds (down 2 from initial starting weight)

July 30: lost 0.8 pounds (down 2.8 pounds from initial starting weight)

July 31: stayed the same

August 1: GAINED TWO POUNDS – again, how is this possible?????!!!!!

Sell baby, sell!

I moved around a lot since we came to Arizona. A LOT. So when I finally bought my condo at around age 22, 23 (I don’t really remember), I was beyond thrilled. I finally had my own place and I knew I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Enter my hubby. Not my hubby at the time I met him, obviously, but soon to be.

Hubby caused me to have to pack up all my belongings and haul my butt across town to live with him. He had the bigger place, and he had a dog – that required a yard, which I did not have. So I picked up and moved in.

My condo and I hadn’t really been getting along anyway – a little while after we started dating, I came home one day to find my pretty wood laminate flooring all “squishy” under my feet over by the kitchen. Called up my dad in a panic – I had a leak and I needed help. Turns out that the refrigerator I just replaced a couple of weeks before (due to the whole thing taking a massive dump on me and leaking water all over the floor) was connected to the pipe in the wall, and the people that delivered it turned the pipe – causing it to leak into the wall. I had to get the whole wall ripped out, all my kitchen cabinets and my entire floor from the dining room to the front door. It took me months to get the company to ante up and fix everything.

Shortly after that, both my toilets in the bathrooms started leaking. I had my brother come and replace both of those. I also had to replace the water heater, which again, my brother so kindly did for me. A few months before the leak debacle in the kitchen, I came home from a nice weekend trip with the boyfriend (now my hubby) and the place smelled like it was on fire. Turns out that my A/C motor had burned up. The nice gentleman who came out to fix it said I would most likely need a new A/C unit within the year.

Needless to say, I basically replaced the entire condo, short of tearing it down and rebuilding. Which is to be expected considering it was built in the 80s and I’m pretty sure everything was the original stuff that was put in. But I was still ready to be out of there. We decided to rent it out.

After finding a property management company, listing it and waiting, and waiting… and waiting, we finally had a tenant move in. Not knowing that this would be the tenant from hell – I was excited! Then the management company called. The A/C unit went out and needed to be replaced. I knew it was coming, I was just hoping it would be later. So we had to shell out $5K to get that fixed. THEN the tenant decided she was going to cause all sorts of havoc and we had to get her (and her illegal dog) evicted. Then we got new tenants.

At this point, hubby and I decided we just need to unload the place. The new tenants are well behaved, but they call the management company about every little damn thing. $60 to replace a light bulb, anyone? Plus, we aren’t even covering the mortgage each month with the fee that the management company takes.

One of my BFFs is a realtor, so I told her just get rid of it. Whatever we have to do. Turns out that it’s not even worth half of what I owe on it, so it will need to be a short sale. Not only will my credit be screwed up for a few years, but I have to go through mountains of paperwork just to see if we can sell it. What a freaking PITA.

Luckily the tenants that are in there really like the place and don’t want to move. So their children are actually liquidating their 401k in order to buy it from me. Hallelujah. One less thing to worry about. So now I go back to collecting all my short sale paperwork: bank statements, pay stubs, back taxes, financial forms, hardship letters… the list just goes on and on. Maybe I should send them one of my eggs and some DNA as well just to make sure they have everything they need.

Please just let this short sale be accepted so I can get this thing over with!!


I know I said I was going to post more. I also said I was going to post Pinterest tests more. I also said that I was dieting. Well, I’m apparently a full-blown liar.

I’ve actually been pretty busy at work trying to catch up all sorts of past “issues” and so I haven’t had any time to get on and post. And when I get home, the last thing I want to do is sit down in front of a computer!

As for the Pinterest tests, the majority of ones that I was testing were all recipes. And they were not good for you recipes. So, since hubby and I have been embarking on our diet extravaganza again (starting this past Monday), I unfortunately do not have a lot of testing going on. However, I am going to be making a side dish with spaghetti squash that I found on Pinterest, so I can put that one up. It’s supposed to be healthy so it fits my promise to post and it fits the diet!

What’s been going on with me lately? Well, I’ve been sort of up and down the last couple of weeks. Ever since we got back from Chicago, I’ve been eating everything in sight, so I’ve been feeling very down about my body and none of my clothes fit. They didn’t fit before, but for some reason it’s just really been hitting home these last couple weeks. Then hubby’s family was in town, so we were out eating every other night and drinking and doing everything to make me feel like a fat slob. On top of that, we have been cleared to TTC again. We were supposed to wait one cycle after I miscarried before we started trying. Cycle came and went, so we jumped back in. The whole thought of conceiving again makes me scared out of my mind – I really want a baby (I had no idea how much, until we lost the one we had) but what if I have another miscarriage? What if there is something totally wrong with me and I can’t carry a baby at all? DH inisists that if it doesn’t happen, no worries – we will just become that childless couple who spends our money on traveling instead of a child. But I know he would be so incredibly bummed. So would I. The only thing we can do is give it a shot and hope that something positive comes of it!

To add to my fears about getting pregnant again, I started having really weird pains in my right ribcage the other night. They were seriously hurting me – it felt like someone was stabbing me every time I moved or breathed. The the pain started moving to my right arm and up to my shoulder. The pain in my ribcage finally subsided (I still feel a twinge now and then) but the pain in my shoulder is still there and is super intense. Not only does it feel like I’m being stabbed, but it’s a burning feeling at the same time. Oh, and after lunch yesterday, I got massive cramps and shooting pains across my upper abdomen. Seriously, what is my body trying to tell me???

Well, I asked hubby’s mom about my ribcage/arm/shoulder pain (she’s a nurse) and she said that it sounded like something called Chostochondritis – inflammation of the rib cage. So I Googled it (bad idea) and upon reading that, discovered that I most likely have Tietze’s Syndrome: a rare, inflammatory disorder characterized by chest pain and swelling of the cartilage of one or more of the upper ribs (costochondral junction). Onset of pain may be gradual or sudden and may spread to affect the arms and/or shoulders. It says that it is considered a benign syndrome and normally cures itself without treatment. No known cause. Super!!

While reading all my possible symptoms and how to treat it and what causes it (because I can’t just let sleeping dogs lie), I discovered a link regarding Lupus symptoms. 

A little backstory here… about 5 years ago, I was losing a lot of hair. I went to the dermatologist and after taking a chunk of my scalp, they came back with a diagnosis: scarring Alopecia. Meaning, I could potentially lose all my hair and unlike regular Alopecia, mine wouldn’t grow back because the follicle would scab over after the hair fell out.  On top of that, Alopecia is a symptom of Lupus, so they wanted me to go see a rheumatologist to get tested for that. After panicking (not only that I would lose my hair, but that I undoubtedly had some immune disease) I made the appointment for the rheumatologist. Test came back with a high level of ANA in my blood, but other than that I appeared to be fine. I was supposed to go every 6 months for blood work to monitor what was going on. I slacked off and haven’t been there in about a year and half.

Back to the link on the Google site: I discovered that if you have Lupus you actually have a greater chance of miscarrying. And if you have Lupus, you should be monitored throughout your whole pregnancy to lessen the chance of miscarrying. Of course, I flipped out when I read that. What if I have Lupus but don’t know it because I stopped going to the doctor? What if that’s what caused my miscarriage? I immediately called and made an appointment to get blood work done and talk to the doctor about everything that’s happened. DH and I are trying again and I don’t want this to be a possible factor of not carrying a baby to term.

Sorry this post was so long! Congrats if you’re still reading 🙂 – I just had a lot going on lately and wanted to catch up on what had been happening.

I’m also toying with the idea of posting my blog out there for the world to see – trying to decide if I’m ready for everyone to know what I’ve been going through.

Does it get better from here?

It’s been two weeks since my little kitten disappeared. Every time I come home, I look for him around the house. Every time I leave the house, I look to make sure he’s not sitting in the driveway or the yard. I still have his little cat house in the living room. I emptied his food dishes, but they’re still in the garage. I haven’t moved the litter box yet.

I guess I just keep praying that he’s going to come home. But at the same time I get these horrible visions in my head of him lying on the street or in a yard somewhere just meowing for me because he’s hurt. Please, please, please let him be okay and just living in someone else’s house. Someone that is taking super good care of him and loves him like I do.

On another note, it’s been exactly one month, one week and one day since my miscarriage. I know this because I have a ticker on my signature on the bump. I’m a glutton for punishment I guess. I got the mail last night and what was in there? A sample package with two full cans of formula. Was that ever a punch in the gut. Thanks for reminding me that I won’t be needing that formula ANY time soon. But it doesn’t expire till 2014, so we’re going to hang on to it just in case. I will put it very far back in the pantry. On a very low shelf.

To further add to my misery, all I keep seeing on FB are updates of people who are pregnant, people who are announcing their pregnancies and people who are showing off baby pictures left and right. Has the world realized that I am not part of this little club and decided to rub it in my face? Nonstop?

Some of the girls that got married the same month I did broke off of TK and formed a little FB group. Five of them (I was the sixth) are pregnant. And right now, they’re all posting their cute little baby announcements to the world and I can’t help but be insanely jealous. I should be right where they are right now. Figuring out a super cute way to let everyone know we’re having a baby. But I’m that evil person right now who can’t even be happy for them. I just want to be in their shoes.

Sorry this post is such a downer. I’m bummed today – this week – and I just needed to vent.

Midwest malfunction

Our trip to Chicago was fun – we crammed a lot of stuff into the 2-1/2 days we were there.We left Thursday night after work… flight was at 7:45 pm and so we didn’t even land in Chicago until 1:10am on Friday. My brother-in-law picked us up and on the way home we stopped at White Castle. I have never had WC before and always gave the hubby crap for not introducing me to this food that was supposed to be “so good”. So we stopped. I’m pretty sure that this stuff is “so good” when you’re SO drunk. To me, they were okay but nothing I’d rave over and crave at all hours. But at least I got to experience the slider that is WC.

We got home about 2:30 in the morning and I attempted to go to sleep. I was a little wired and not able to do anything but lie there and stare at the ceiling. We had to be up by 9 to get ready and catch a train into the city for the Cubs game.

We took MIL’s car to the train station – when we got in it, it was out of gas, the engine light was on and the tire pressure was low. It was actually kind of funny. So we stopped for gas (and cash) and took off for the station. Forgot the game tickets. Turned around and bolted home to get them – and we’re off again. Get to the train station with just enough time to run (yes, I ran) to the train. Right after we got on, they closed the doors. And since we didn’t have time to get a ticket before we got on, we had to buy one from the conductor – for an extra $3 fee for each ticket! But at least we made the train – the next one didn’t leave for an hour.

This was my first time at Wrigley Field and I was so excited to be there. My dad loves the Cubs and talks about Wrigley as if it’s the holy grail of stadiums. It was pretty awesome to be there. We watched a few innings and then went to get food and buy some shirts and hats. Gotta do the whole tourist thing!

The view from our seats at Wrigley.

The radio booth. Harry Carey’s old home.

After Wrigley, we took the train back to downtown Chicago and walked around for a bit. The train station was right by a really cool looking theater. We stopped and got a couple drinks and some appetizers before we hit the train for home. 

Soldier Field from the train!

Saturday was the trip to the flea market. Hubby’s family owns the building that the flea market is in (started by his grandfather) and everyone kept telling me I needed to go. The top two floors are a warehouse that the family runs and the bottom is the market. So we went to visit, saw some very questionable things, met some questionable people and headed home. After a quick stop at the party store for costume essentials, we headed home to help get ready for the party. 

My brother-in-law (the young one) graduated from high school this year, so this was his big bash. The pool was ready, the spa was ready, the tables in the pole barn all set up for beer pong, flippy cup and LCR. The horsehoe pits were cleaned up, the bags boards in place. A giant pile of wood, tree braches and other miscellaneous debris was out in the far back yard ready to be lit for a bonfire. And the bases were loaded for slosh kickball. Slosh kickball, in case you’ve never played, is basically a kickball game with a keg at 2nd base. When you’re running the bases you have to stop at 2nd and chug a beer before you can move on. This is especially fun if there is someone right behind you because they can’t go to 2nd without you chugging and moving on. Everyone in the field must also have a cup of beer to drink at all times. It was a ton of fun – until the wind, rain, lightning and thunder moved in. Yep, the midwest storm was a comin’. After the storm hit (over 2 inches within a few hours), everyone pretty much stayed in the house or the pole barn. The party kept going though, no one was letting the rain stop their fun!! 

Sunday we got up after a couple hours of sleep, played with the horses (puppies actually) and then went to get lunch before we had to get on a plane to go home. One stop in OKC and we were home about 8 that night. 

I am exhausted. 

Willie Floyd at the family farm.

One of the “horses” – Liesl. They have 4 great danes and a basset. Craziness.

My gift from Flecken, one of the danes. She was excited to see me.

This week begins the diet again!! Wish me luck.


Okay. I know I said in my last post that I wouldn’t bore you with the details of the past couple of weeks, but I’m up to my ears in grief and don’t know what else to do but let it all out on paper (well, this blog). So here goes… sorry.

My husband and I discovered that we were pregnant via a home pregnancy test on Sunday, May 20th. We were ecstatic to say the least. We just got married in March and I immediately went off birth control. So to have it happen so soon was the best gift ever.

I called my doctor that Monday and made an appointment just to go in and get everything confirmed. The receptionist said that you rarely get a false positives with those tests these days, so “congratulations!” Again, ecstatic.

I went in that Thursday, May 24th. The doctor had me pee in a cup – always fun – and confirmed that I was indeed pregnant. Wanting to see if an ultrasound was an option, we discussed everything and determined that I should be about 5 weeks or so along. Great! Let’s do an ultrasound and find out what’s going on in there.

Ultrasound performed… doctor doesn’t see anything. He looks around a bit more and still nothing. So he tells me that one of three things could be going on: 1) I was pregnant, but the dates had been miscalculated and I wasn’t as far along as we thought, 2) I was pregnant, but it could be an ectopic pregnancy (meaning that I would register as pregnant, but nothing would show on the ultrasound because the embryo had attached itself somewhere outside the uterus), or 3) I was no longer pregnant and my HCG levels just hadn’t come down yet. So he would have to draw blood to test my HCG levels and get back to me. Hubby and I were praying that it was option number one.

The doctor rushed my blood test for me and got back to me the next day, Friday. He said that my levels were only at 221, so I would need to come in again in a few days to do another test. This way they would have some points to draw from. I scheduled another blood test for Tuesday, March 29th.

In the meantime, we had to go to California for my hubby’s great-grandmother’s funeral. I couldn’t drink since I still didn’t know what was going on and had to face numerous inquisitions about that fact that I didn’t even have a glass of champagne at the party. I guess everyone thought I was being disrespectful. No, just having a minor breakdown over what may be going on in my body.

I was set to go to the doctor at lunchtime on the 29th. Right before I left I went to the bathroom – only to discover that I was bleeding. Not light bleeding either. This was heavy duty. I told the doc this when I got there and he said that I was probably having a miscarriage but he’d test my levels to be sure. He rushed them again for me.

The next day, he called to tell me that in spite of the bleeding I’d had the day before, my levels had gone up to 917! That’s awesome news – I may be okay after all. So we scheduled a new appointment for Tuesday June 5th. We would check my levels again and hopefully be able to see something on the ultrasound this time.

Monday, June 4th: we have massive issues with our dog (story for another day) and when I get all that sorted out, I discover I’m bleeding again. Now, I had been spotting since the previous week’s episode, but just lightly and brown in color. TMI I know. But this was heavy again. And it was red. And it freaked me out.

It didn’t stop all night, or the next day – and then the cramping started. I had to wait until 4:30 before my appointment so I just dealt with it as much as I could. Knowing that I probably had lost it. When I got to the doctor’s office, I told him what was going on and he had the look on his face that no one wants to see. Sympathy and sorrow. He did an exam and said there was way too much blood to be normal. He did the ultrasound and said yes, I definitely had a miscarriage. It took all I had not to break down in tears in his office.

On the bright side, my body apparently did a great job of flushing everything out on its own so I wouldn’t need any procedures to help it along. Now I just have to wait for everything to work itself out.

I had to go back to the doctor again today because when they tested my blood, I found out that I’m O-, so a RhoGAM shot was needed to reduce the possibility of any further issues. Hubby has A+ blood, so the baby could potentially have had positive blood as well. Introducing positive blood into my negative type bloodstream could mean that I would develop antibodies against any further pregnancies. Not good. But I got the shot, all should be well.

I’m dealing with this the best I can, but it’s hard. I thought it would be easier since I never even saw a baby, heartbeat, etc. But it’s still just as emotionally scarring. I can’t talk to my fellow March brides on our Facebook page because there are 5 of them that are pregnant and I get heartbroken everytime I see a status that they saw the heartbeat. Or that the baby is perfectly forming. Why couldn’t I be a part of that? What did I do wrong?

As my tears course down my face each morning (the only time I’m alone to deal with my grief), I can’t help but picture what our little family would have been like. I can only hope that I get the chance to try again and that the next time, we will be successful.