Miscarriage: The Forbidden Word

You're not supposed to talk about it, and it feels almost forbidden. As if talking about it will jinx things or somehow call attention to your existence and you'll find it choosing you. It's like a real life monster or boogie man for adult women. It makes you feel like prey when you're at your most vulnerable, and you never want that barrel trained towards you. But then it happens, it does point your way, and for a brief moment it feels like your life is going to end.

You can't breathe, and it feels like the floor is falling away beneath you while the walls are closing in on you. There is so much emotional and physical pain, and you feel like you might get washed away and drown in a sea of your own tears. It isn't supposed to be this way, it was supposed to be happiness and light and laughter, the beauty and celebration of new life.

Why doesn't anyone talk about miscarriage? I realize that it's a very personal subject, and makes some people extremely uncomfortable, but it makes it even more difficult to deal with when women going through it think that they are the only ones. The thing is, we aren't the only ones. You are not the only one who feels like you've failed. You're not the only one who feels horribly devastated. You're not the only one who excitedly calculated her due date the second she saw that positive pregnancy test, and dreamed up names for the little one she thought she was going to hold in 9 months.

You're not alone. It happened to me too. My first pregnancy happened like a fairy tale dream. I wanted a baby, so we made one. I had the easiest and most fun pregnancy, and gave birth to the healthiest little boy, so naturally I took it for granted that we could do it again the same way. Unfortunately it just doesn't always work that way.

If you look up the statistics, they say that 1 in 5 pregnancies ends in miscarriage, but my OB informed me that the number is more realistically 1 in 3. If you think about it, that is a lot of women having miscarriages and yet nobody talks about it. You absolutely know multiple women who have lived through them, I can guarantee.

I miscarried at 9 weeks, and I had what is called an incomplete miscarriage. After 16 days of bleeding I still hadn't naturally passed all the pregnancy material (such a disgusting term), so I had to go in for a D&C (dilation & curettage). My experience has felt like a nightmare that keeps dragging on. I just wanted it to be over and done with, I didn't need a constant reminder every time I went to the bathroom.

So now I am healing, physically and emotionally. You don't have to feel sorry for me, but please know that you can live through it and there have been so many of us in the same situation. You are not alone.

I knew that becoming a mother would be the hardest thing I had ever undertaken, but I never anticipated how strong and powerful it would make me feel to live through such a traumatic experience. Miscarrying my second baby only reinforced my love and appreciation for my healthy and incredibly sweet and energetic first born. Children are miracles, as my friend Junko told me.

To memorialize my second pregnancy, I now wear a crescent moon around my neck. It's to signify the natural process of the waxing and waning of the moon. I may be a crescent moon right now, but I don't doubt that I will be a full one once again.

Four Years Strong

Today, I celebrate my marriage to a wonderful human being. Nobody annoys me or can make me as angry as the people I love the most, and my husband is certainly no exception. That said, no one has ever stood so solidly by my side, truly for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, than Brendan Michael Wilson.

I am proud to call him my husband. He thinks I have no idea how hard he works for our son and I, or how he struggles to make sure we won't want for anything, and how he's always on the lookout for the perfect home for us to grow into. I watch you every day, my love, I see it all, and I am so grateful for it.

My husband is my rock, without whom I would have completely fallen apart this summer. Marriage isn't always about romance and grand gestures, it's about caring for someone's well being more than you care for your own. It's about being equals and partners in a life together. I could not have chosen a more perfect partner, and I am so glad that he also chose me.

This is always quite the week for us, celebrating a date-iversary, engage-iversary, his birthday, and our wedding anniversary! Happy multiple anniversaries to my greatest love.

Always goofballs together

Pet Loss Grief

When my Toby died last Tuesday, I felt not only horribly sad and devastated, but incredibly guilty as well. I guess those are organic reactions to have when you lose a beloved pet and family member.

I felt like there must have been something more I could have done. I could've rushed him to the vet earlier; I could've made sure he didn't eat indigestible things around the house that could've harmed him; I could've made life better for him somehow. In many ways, this post is really just about validating and proving to myself that I was a good bunny mother, and if I'm truly honest with myself, I think that I was.

Brendan and I saved that little bun's life so many times. He ate like a king, was a free range house rabbit, and was given lots of love daily. Toby even had his own eye doctor. Yes, seriously.

I can agonize all I want about the life that we did or didn't give him, but what matters in the end is that he knew he was loved and we really did do our best for him. Not just as a human baby mama, but as a rabbit mama, I always go above and beyond. That said, it doesn't make me miss my little fatso any less.

You can't ignore the living for the dead though, so I am still counting my blessings. I still have my Small Human, my crazy Tidbit, my husband and my whole family to love and enjoy for as long as we are fortunate enough to be together.

The dead may be gone from our physical lives but they will never, ever be forgotten or unloved. 

Parent Terror

On Monday afternoon I was treated to a super luxurious and confusing three hour nap from Small Human. I knew it was too good to be true, and was later rewarded with the most difficult bed time of our time together as mother and child. He was so hyper and fully ready to battle for a couple of hours for sure.

After twenty minutes, when I decided there would be no more Mister Nice Momie, I said good night and walked away to let him cry. This is when we heard the terrifying thump of a toddler hitting the ground running. Of course, I prefer that sound to one of a toddler hitting the ground and screaming in pain.

So we lowered the crib to its lowest setting and tried again. There was another thump not even a minute later! He didn't seem hurt, but it scared me so hard I almost cried. Bedtime took nearly two hours last night, and I am not keen to make a habit out of it.

I'm not sure how to handle the crib escapage because he is not ready for a toddler bed. However, I am never going to be ready to make a trip to the emergency room because my baby seriously injured himself, so we'll see what the options are in the days to come. Gah! His travel crib may have to become his full time crib if he keeps jailbreaking.

Any and all suggestions would be greatly appreciated!

The perp

Life

I think that I would like to allow myself time to fully grieve and accept all the loss that has affected my family and I over the last little bit, so I'm going to take a short break for a little while. It doesn't feel right to just go about living life like everything is fine. It isn't fine right now, and that's ok. Somehow, my heart feels violated and traumatized by all the recent events and needs to heal. I don't need to be cheered up or fixed, that's not how these things work unfortunately.

So, I will see you soon. Slowly, but surely, I will feel whole again. At least, I can only hope I will. This is life, after all. Don't worry, I'll be back next week, take care of yourselves. xoxo

Rest in Peace My Sweet Toby

My rabbit passed away late last night. I'm relieved I was able to be with him for his last moments on earth, but they were very tough last moments.

Toby Lofranco-Wilson came into my life almost exactly 5 years ago. He was a beautiful Dutch Cross rabbit that was found wandering the streets of Toronto, emaciated and with cataracts in both his eyes. I had no idea how old he was, and had only intended to foster him until I found him a good home. However, I saw him for what he was: a gorgeous bunny with a sweet disposition and he stole my heart.

He was a hearty guy who survived near starvation, cancer, eye removal surgery, complete blindness, and an adventurous plane ride to his final home in Seattle. He will be greatly missed by his mama, papa, brother Noah, and sister Tidbit.

My Boby, my Toblerone, my Dutchie, you brought joy into our hearts with your cautious, deliberate gait, drove us crazy by chewing through our electronics and furniture legs, but won us over with your insatiable appetite, sweetness, and that permanent tuxedo.

Thank you for being a part of our family, and for making Noah laugh every morning as soon as he woke up and saw you in the room you two shared together. You were loved so much and you will be missed even more. May you get to eat all the banana you want in heaven.

Noah's Favourite Things Winner!

I know I promised to announce the winner the day after Labour Day, and I am! It's a late post, but on the west coast it's still only the day after. The winner is:

Mimi Yongco!

Ms. Mimi is currently pregnant with her second child and has an adorable little boy in the first grade. Congratulations, expect your prize in the mail soon!

You will be receiving: 2 Siliskin Silicone lids, There's a Wocket in My Pocket board book, 1 package of Honest Company diapers and diaper rash cream.

:) :) :)