Blessings and Lessons...

The great thing about the Nest is you meet so many great women who really rally around each other and are like this anonymous support/gossip/snark/chitchat group. When you want to piss and moan about how your husband is driving you up a wall, they are there tell you what a stupid A-hole he is. But when you want to talk about how awesome and supportive that same husband is, they are there to praise his amazing works. And when you have great news that you can't share with anyone else, they are there to congratulate you. And when your world falls apart right in front of your eyes, they band together and see you through it and offer endless prayers and support that you can't get anywhere else. The "friendship" nesties have provided me is beyond what most of my close, "real life" friends have provided.
But the downfall is, when one of you hurts, everyone does. When someone miscarries, everyone cries. When someone loses their job, everyone feels that sting. When someone is having a bad day, everyone just wants to be there for them to hug them and offer them anything they think will make it better. I have seen so many nesties lose babies at a point in their pregnancy where most people start to feel "safe". It's heart breaking. It really is.

Today, one nestie delivered her son at full term. He lived 16 minutes before going Home. They knew he had some issues in utero but were praying so hard for a miracle. Anyone who knows her has been praying for her and her husband and their baby boy. I think we all had that glimmer of hope that God would heal his little body and let these parents take home a happy, healthy baby.
And that didn't happen.
(If you want to follow their story: http://sgirl79.blogspot.com/)
I sat in the library at school and cried to myself. I cried for her and her husband and their families. I can't imagine (and don't want to imagine) how bad they are hurting at this moment. I cried for their baby. He will never have to hurt or suffer. He has gone to be with Jesus and will never know anything but a perfect, happy life.

And then I cried for myself. And Ben. And our Buddha. I felt totally selfish for crying over their grief. I felt stupid for crying over our loss, which to some (even me at times) pales in comparison to what they, and so many others, have been through.

We never had to make a decision as to whether or not we would keep our baby after finding out they had genetic disorders or something else was wrong.

We were spared.

God made that decision for us.

We agreed before we even got pregnant that for no reason would we terminate the pregnancy. We would see it through the end regardless what obstacles we were presented with. But we both knew it would still be a hard bridge to cross. We didn't have to have that conversation with each other. We didn't have to endure 30 weeks of uncertainty while waiting for our due date. I can not imagine how heart breaking that conversation must be, even if you already know the answer to the question at hand.

We didn't have to do that.

We didn't have to mill over the possibilities.

We were blessed.

We were spared.

God was looking over us. In our darkest hour, when we felt totally abandoned, we were being looked over and protected-we just didn't realize it yet. I firmly believe that God will never give you more than you can handle and He has a master plan for every single moment of our day. He knew we couldn't handle that conversation, so He made the decision for us.

It still hurts. We still miss Buddha. We still want him back. It is getting easier with time, but it is a long, bumpy narrow road. But now we are starting to realize how blessed we were and still are.
Though we tried longer than most to get pregnant, we were able to do so on our own.
That was a blessing.
We got the thrill of seeing our baby's heart pumping away on the ultrasound screen. So many people do not get that.
That was a blessing.
I didn't have a horrible miscarriage at home.
That was a blessing.
I have an AMAZING Doctor, who I can't say enough nice things about to be there for the physical aspect of this but also the emotional. He and his wife have had 5 miscarriages so they know the pain and heart break first hand.
His compassion was such a blessing.
My surgery was quick and the recovery was fairly easy (for the most part).
That was a blessing.
No damage was done to any of my reproductive organs that wasn't already present.
That was a blessing.
We will be able to try again for another baby when we are ready.
That is a blessing.
Someday, I have faith that we will have a happy, healthy baby.
We look forward to that blessing.
Our marriage survived this whole disaster. Our marriage was made stronger than ever through this. So many marriages don't survive these things.
That was a blessing I am truly thankful for.

I hate that I learned so much from someone else's pain. Especially in this situation. I hate that it took someone else's tragedy to show me all the blessings I am surrounded by.

Ben and I have both learned from this. We are stronger people. We are in a stronger marriage. We are both getting to a better place filled with understanding and acceptance. We are happy.

My heart breaks for Stacy, Spencer and their Angel Isaac. All of my prayers, even the ones reserved for myself and my family are headed your way tonight and in the days to come.

"God Blesses those who mourn, for they will be comforted." Matthew 5:4

Buddha's Rainbow...

Last Wednesday I had class. I didn't want to go. I really didn't feel ready to go back to THAT class. We talk about fetal development and pregnancy a lot and I just did.not.want.to.be.there. But, I sucked it up and went. Because I had to.
So I get to class and Surprise! We are having a test. I know it is my responsibility to check the syllabus, which I had done while I was out for the week, but it had totally slipped my mind (losing our baby kinda took over everything). But I was already there so I didn't really have a choice, so I took it. Again, much to my surprise, we were allowed to leave after our test. If you have ever met Dr. Graham (who I really can't say enough nice things about right now-she let me take all the time I needed and really made coming back to school much easier for me) she doesn't ever end class early. Given the chance to leave early, I jetted and didn't look back.
I had to park farther away that day than usual, but I really didn't care. It was beautiful outside. One of the nicest days I have seen in a long time. The breeze was just right. The sun was bright, but not blinding. It was a perfect 65 degrees. Just really amazing weather. After I loaded up my books into my car I just stood there for a minute and soaked it all in. I took a few deep, deep breaths and looked at the sky. I talked to Buddha for a minute then got in my car and headed home. I called Ben to let him know I was coming home and he told me to be careful because it was dark and stormy at our house. Eh...I didn't care. I headed home.
As I speed down I-64 I don't even make it to the 29th Street exit before the dark clouds come in. An odd part of me loved them as much as I did the beautiful weather I had just enjoyed. I felt like I connected more with the dark clouds. They got me. And then the skies opened up. It poured rain. I slowed from 75 to 60 mph. Then, just as quickly as it started, it stopped. I desperately wanted the rain to come back. It just felt good to see the ugly clouds and rain. It felt right. It fit me. I needed the rain.
A very dear friend of mine sent me this poem the week before:

Oh Father, My Father

Close your eyes and feel me near
keep me inside your heart
let me live in your soul
you see though tears
the things we will never do
running across fields of my youth
games never played
but it is not gone
those dreams you hold so close
for I live on in every child you see
little ones standing alone...lost
or laughing in a playground
swinging so high
touching the tree tops
that is I
wanting just to love
feel my happiness in the song of a bird
see my sorrows in mother
hold her close forever
feeling your strength
for there will be one to come behind me
whether through God's grace or
from a different calling
a child chosen through his hand.
For in darkness, a light will appear
even if its just the dawn
signaling a new beginning
and as you gather my mother to your heart
release your tears
let the healing begin
and discover that I am here
in your dreams
in your tomorrows
Evey rainbow is the path home
and if you should stumble
I am the wings that shall lift you.

Love, your child

Every rainbow is a path home. I read that line over and over and over again when I received the poem. I prayed I would see a rainbow so I would know our Buddha had made it to his forever home. But I knew the chances of that were rare. I have seen less than 3 rainbows in my entire life and I am 24 years old. I bookmarked the poem on my laptop and moved on.
And then, there it was. The biggest, boldest brightest rainbow I have ever seen. It was unreal. It was right in front of me. I had to pull over.

I cried. Hard. I called Ben and made him promise not to take me to the loony bin when I got home. I snapped a million pictures with my cell phone, even though my professional camera was in the backseat. I just sat there and looked at it. I didn't want it to go away. I wanted to sit there forever with Buddha's rainbow. And in that moment, I got an inner peace I had been begging and asking and pleading God to send me. A tiny section of my heart that I thought was going to be cold and black forever melted. This was God telling me he had our Buddha and he was safe.
I still cry as I sit here and type this because that moment was so real for me. I would give my left arm (since I don't use it much anyway) to have just a second of that moment back.

The next day, the necklace with our due date and Buddha's birthstone Ben ordered for me the day after we lost our baby arrived. And again, a part of my heart that I thought would be cold forever melted away. I know it is just a necklace. A piece of metal attached to a chain. But to be it is so much more than that. It is the only connection I have to a child I never got to have. It sits close to my heart and is always with me, just like I wanted Buddha to be. He may not realize it, but this necklace means more than the world to me.

And yes, I am aware they spelled Buddha wrong, but I am far too sentimental to send it back.

I'm 24 years old. I've seen 4 rainbows and God in real life.

Dear Elaine (and whoever else for that matter)

Hi Darling(s).
Here's the thing. You see, this is MY blog. Therefore, I can write what I want. See how that works? If I want to write that all Irish people should wear purple on Wednesdays, I can write that. If I want to write that I think all democrats should be taken out back and hung by their toe nails, I can write that.
Webster's defines bigotry as a person who is utterly intolerant of any differing creed, belief, or opinion. As for reading comprehension, did it ever say anywhere in ANY entry that I hate anyone of ANY race, gender, sexual orientation, creed, etc? Because I didn't see that... I don't care if two men/women want to get married. It has little to no effect on me. It really doesn't. Should it be called a marriage? In my opinion, no, because MY religion that I am entitled to follow says marriage is between a MAN and a WOMAN. I have no, zero, nada problem with calling it a civil union and giving them the same rights as any other married couple, but it is not a marriage IN MY OPINION. I don't care if Jim down the street wants to marry his mailbox, it makes no difference to me, but don't call it a marriage.
I respect other people's opinions. I don't chase down other people's blogs and leave nasty comments if I don't agree with them.

And just a side note, ALL of you are a CLASS ACT. Really. So far, the majority of this blog has been about the loss of our child. NOT ONE of you has left a comment of sympathy, compassion or support. You have only left negative, rude comments. You, my friends, are lower than low. I would not wish what we have been through in the last week on my worst enemy, yet you can only come here to ruffle feathers and be spiteful. SHAME ON YOU. You all disgust me. It sounds to me like some of YOU are the bigots, not me.

I will be praying for each of you this week.

Wish me luck.

I'm going back to school today. I have sent word via Meaghan that I DO.NOT. want to talk about the miscarriage. I just want to return to class as Catie, the girl who has tongue in cheek comments and makes people laugh at inappropriate times.


I'm oddly excited to get back to normal.


And I have a rockin new hair do. (Thanks, Ben!) I made the leap and cut my bangs. I rreeaallllyy hope I don't regret this in 2 weeks, lol.

Cut me an effing break.

So I spent Friday morning in the ER, which ended up being nothing but a total waste of $100 and time. But let's back up to Thursday.
I went to the office for an ultrasound-just to make sure my baby was dead. He was. Fun stuff. So they sent me down to pre-op to get some blood work done and get ready for surgery. They sent back about 29974 people to get blood, ask questions, poke and prod me. I was beside myself, esp when they asked questions about the pregnancy. Ben had to answer most of the questions for me because I couldn't even talk. Then they transfer me to anesthesia. The Anesthesiologist gave me two options, a spinal block or they could put me under, he was comfortable with either but the option was mine. Since I had nightmares of dying during surgery all week (not kidding) I wanted to talk about the spinal with Ben. One of the nurses, who was a total asshole for lack of a better word, gave me some serious attitude over it. He went to get Ben, and then gave Ben attitude. Part of me wanted to say to him "Hello! I am having our dead baby sucked out of me in about 10 minutes. Can you cut me some slack?" But anyways. Ben gets back there and the rude nurse says to him "Quick kiss and get out." I was shocked. I had NEVER been treated like that before. I just sat there and sobbed. The anesthesiologist came back and asked what our decision was and the rude nurse said "We are doing general anesthesia." I didn't care. I didn't even argue. I just wanted it over. There were so many people moving around and asking questions that I got really disoriented and scared. I remember going to the OR and a nurse (not the asshole) held my hand and wiped my face. She was so nice, but I didn't get her name.
Then I woke up in recovery. I hurt. I asked for Ben. Then passed back out. Long story short, I stayed in recovery for a while then went home. Pretty uneventful.
Here's the part where I brag on my husband. He is amazing and the best thing that ever happened to me. After surgery, I couldn't go to the bathroom by myself, bend over to even pull my pants up, stand up alone, get in or out of bed on my own, etc. Ben did it all for me. When I had to pee, he went with me. He held my hand and ran the faucet to get me to pee. He let me sit on the toilet and cry because it hurt so unbelievably bad. (During surgery, they had to cath me to empty my bladder. Don't worry, I was asleep. They wouldn't have done it otherwise-more on that later.) Ben did everything for me. It was embarrassing to have my husband help change my pad and pull my underwear up for me but he never once complained and tried to make me feel better. He made jokes while I cried in an attempt to make me feel better. He held me in bed while I cried harder than I think I ever have in my life. He got all my medicine and still makes sure I take what I am supposed to, when I am supposed to. I would not have survived last week without him.
Then Thursday night rolls through. Ben works for the devil, so he had to go to work. Luckily my parents were both here. I hadn't slept all week, even with the help of prescription aids (which I do not recommend) so I was hopeful I would sleep for more than 3 hours. Didn't happen. Around 4 I woke up with this unreal urge to push like I was in labor- a lovely, yet cruel side effect from the pitocin they gave me to dialate my cervix and again to help shrink my uterus back down. I cried for my mom (who was also amazing last week) who came and helped me get up. (Insert TMI warning here.) I went to the bathroom and passed blood blots the size of golf balls. I felt every bit of it. My arms were numb from my elbows to my fingertips and were blood red. My face was on fire. I called Ben who called my OB who told me to go to the ER. Fantastic.
So we get to the ER. The Dr (not my OB) wants to cath me without even talking to me. Here's where I go from nice, compliant patient to raging bitch. I said absolutely not. Over my cold, lifeless body were they going to cath me. My privates had been through the ringer the day before and they were NOT shoving another thing up there. So the Dr. (who was already in a pissy mood) gives me a Lortab and Ativan, told me it was a panic attack and sends me home. THANKS FOR NOTHING. Thanks for not listening to me, thanks for reffering to my surgery as an abortion OVER AND OVER AND OVER again. (I know this is the technical name, but D&C stings just a little less.) I was pissed, and still am.
And now it's Monday morning. I call my OB's office to schedule my follow up for my surgery and tell them I was in the ER Friday morning. I tell them the whole story and they want to see me right away. I should NOT be having these issues following a D&C. I'm still bleeding. Still passing clots. Still having cramps that are so bad they radiate around to my back. My boobs have started leaking (sexy, huh?). I am not sleeping. I have no appetite. I hate my body. I am going to find a way to trade it in.

And to top it all off, the effing Duggar's were on the Today Show. Give me a break. I want to punch her. 18 pregnancies. 18 babies. What gives? Does she pray harder than I do? I'm sure she swears less. What makes her so freaking special. I know the Today Show producers didn't plant her on today's episode to spite me or as a personal dig, but I couldn't help but feel like it was a slap in the face. I think she's just greedy. Who need's 18 kids anyways.


In case you couldn't tell, I'm tired and bitter. I have tried being thankful for all that we have and the many blessings God has given us, but right now, bitter just feels better.

This sucks.

I hate this. I wouldn't wish this pain on my worst enemy.

I feel like a failure as a wife and as a mother.

My body failed me.

I'm so sorry, Buddha. I really did everything I thought was right for you. I hope you didn't suffer or hurt.


I miss you every second of the day.


I am taking a BOTB break. I can't tell if I'm bitter, jealous or hurting so it's just best I leave it alone for a while. My heart is so heavy and broken. It's not fair to continue to dump it on them.


I want Buddha back. Even for just a minute. I want to know who he would have grown up to be. Who would he look like? Who's temperament would he have had? I want to feel him kick and move in my belly. I just want it all back.

I want a do over.

Not so great update.

We went in for our ultrasound on 9/15/08. Everything was amazing. We saw our little Buddha and his flashy little heartbeat going strong at 116 bpm. So we went home, on cloud nine and so excited.

Fast forward to the next Monday. I had some spotting, my OB agreed to see me right away. So off to the office, bracing for the worst but praying so, so hard for the best. Ben was amazing. He assured me that no matter what, we were going to be ok and his love for me was not contingent on this baby I was carrying.

We get to the office, quick exam and an ultrasound later, we learn there is no longer a heartbeat. Buddha died on Saturday sometime and my body hadn't recognized it yet. They left Ben and I alone in a room to collect ourselves. All I could do was sob. Not just cry, but snot nosed, red faced sobbing action. Ben was amazing, as usual. He cried with me and just held me. I quickly went from sobbing to panicking. I wanted to get out. I wanted to go home, I wanted them to take everything they said back and tell me our baby was alive and well. No one can EVER understand the emotions you go through at that moment unless they have been there. It's surreal. It's true, life shattering heartbreak. It crushes every bit of your soul that you think you had in your body. You want to be angry at someone, but you have no one to direct your anger at. It's not Ben's fault. It's not the Dr's fault. It's not my neighbors fault. It can't be God's fault, He has the Master Plan and has a reason for this. So the only one left to blame is me. My body. Sitting there in the office surrounded by Ben and the office staff, I have never, ever felt so entirely alone.
I got dressed and went to Dr. Patel's office (who is AMAZING). He went over everything top to bottom. What happened, why it happened, what can be done next time, how long we need to wait, etc. He told he no less than 50 times, THIS WAS NOT MY FAULT. I did nothing. More than likely (95%+ chance) this was a chromosomal abnormality and there is nothing I could have done to prevent it all. We scheduled me on Thursday morning for one more ultrasound just to make sure there was no heartbeat and my D&C immediately follow.
I sobbed in the car. Ben cried with me. We sat in the hospital parking lot and sobbed. Our world stopped. Our hearts had been ripped from our chest. Our souls were at the bottom of our feet. We decided to go to Logan to visit his mom so we wouldn't have to go home and look at all our brand new baby stuff-stroller, clothes, bedding, etc in our living room. His mom was awesome. She made us dinner and talked me through the procedure *she is a surgical nurse and has done D&C's before*. She let us cry, and sleep and just be heartbroken.
Tuesday and Wednesday were long. Longest days of my life. I knew what was coming and the thought that I was carrying my now dead child was too much. I did a lot of screaming, hard crying into my pillow. Lot's of praying. My mom came on Tuesday and unfortunately took the brunt of my anger. (sorry, mom.) After not sleeping ALL week (literally) my OB called in one 5mg Ambien for me on Wednesday night (which didn't help). My dad got here Wednesday and was also awesome. We spent time just watching movies, letting me cry when I needed to and loving Ben and me.
Thursday morning. Not fun. We went in for my ultrasound. They showed us Buddha. They showed us where his heartbeat should have been. They printed us pictures. They let us ask 1000000 questions. I went down for pre-op blood work and and to get prepped. I panicked the entire time. The staff was amazing. They were so gentle and understanding and let Ben answer questions for me when I couldn't control myself. Then they moved to the surgery prep room and got my IV set up and gave me "the juice". From there on, I don't remember anything. I vaguely remember my blood pressure cuff waking me up and the unreal pain I felt in my abdomen. I remember crying for Ben and the poor recovery nurse telling me I couldn't see him yet. Next thing I remember was poor Ben trying to get me dressed. He got to see me stark nekkid, which he didn't mind. I had no clue what planet I was on and an entire surgery team had just seen all my goods, so I didn't really care who saw what at that point. They gave my mom my prescriptions and sent me home. And then I slept. And had nightmares. And punched Ben in my sleep. Cried in my sleep. Saw Buddha in my sleep. I was a mess. I couldn't go to the bathroom alone, I couldn't walk, I couldn't stand up straight, I couldn't stand up by myself or reposition myself on my own. It.Sucked.Ass.
Ben had to go to work bc he works for the devil, so mom and dad stayed with me. I, of course, didn't sleep. I was in pain, I felt like I had to push like I was in labor (thanks, Pitocin!) and was passing blood clots the size of golf balls. At 4:30 I called Ben who called my Dr and he told me to go to the ER. Off we go. We get there, and long story short, they take blood, threaten to cath me (over my cold and lifeless body), peed in a cup, took some Lortab and Adovan and slept. Finally. I slept hard. Somehow, mom and Ben got me home and I slept for another 4 hours before mom made me get up so I will be able to sleep tonight.

So that should catch you up. We miss Buddha everyday. We are still broken on the inside but are slowly getting ourselves back together. Our marriage has never been stronger. Our bond as husband and wife is so solid right now. I couldn't imagine a better person picked out for me to spend my life with.
At the same time, we realize how blessed we are. We are lucky we got pregnant (this does not mean it is ok to say "At least you know you can get pregnant." "You're still young","You can try again" NONE of those things are helpful). We tried hard for Buddha. We wanted him. We would have done anything to keep him. I followed all the rules. I took my vitamins and supplements. I cut out caffeine and alcohol. I slept on my left side. I read the books. But it just didn't work out.
We were lucky to see the word "Pregnant" pop up on that digital test. We were so blessed to see the tiny heartbeat on the ultrasound. So many people try much harder than we did and never even get that satisfaction. We are lucky that our bond is strong and we have faith, family and friends to support us. We are lucky that no damage was done to my reproductive system and someday (far in the future) we will try again.

We are starting to heal. It still stings. I go back to school next week. I get back to whatever normal was next week. The healing will continue next week. And life will move on. Without our Buddha.


“So for better or worse, the dynamic of two people shifts and takes a new form. A form that sometimes seems to have more to do with surviving than truly enjoying life.” -Baby Proof by Emily Giffin

"We know we'll have a baby. And we're going to have the baby we're supposed to have. Whatever baby we end up with will be the right baby. Our baby. And we know that we'll hold that child and think, "If our journey had been easy, we wouldn't have you."- Baby Proof by Emily Giffin

"A wife who loses her husband is called a widow. A husband who loses his wife is called a widower. A child who loses the their parents is called an orphan. There is no word for a parent who loses a child. That's how awful the loss is."-Unknown



We also want to say thank you for all the prayers, well wishes, thoughts and nice messages each of you have sent. We still covet your prayers and will for months to come. We love each of you and are looking forward to what life has to offer us.

Love Always,
Catie, Ben and Angel Buddha