Finish The Sentance Link Up...

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This would be my first link up ever...gotta kiss ass into the blog world somehow ;)

1. I always pick…songs on a jukebox when we are out.  Gotta get my wiggle on when I am posted up on bar stool in some dingy bar, those are the only kind I like!

2. Look at the size of those...Butts!! I always compare my butt size to everyone else's...I just can't NOT look!

3. I recently learned....how to do a link up?!?

4. Only when no one is looking... twirl my hair around my finger.  It is a bad habit that all the women in my family do.  It helps me think.

5. I lost my....license this last weekend.  Well I didn't lose it, I just haven't found it...yet. And I haven't told my husband...yet ;)

6. I was certain I'd…find that damn license!^^

7. There is not enough liquor in the world for me to...this is a tough one, because with enough liquor...I will do almost anything...well almost anything ;)  There is not enough liquor in the world for me to...go bowling! I am so bad at that game, and am so competitive...that because I know I will lose, I simply refuse to play.

8. I just finished...a big merferckin coffee!  So I will be jacked up until about 1pm...and than I will be checked outski's for the freakin weekend baby!

9. Why does everyone have to be...so sensitive!  Say what you mean and mean what you say!  Sarcasm is the spice of my life! It's my second language really!  Third language being profanity.

10. It's very rare when I...get mad. But when I do...

11. If I were a dog...I'd sleep all day.  In the sun that spot that hits on the floor in front of our couch, and just snooze the day away.  

12. I don't believe...that this winter will ever end.  I live in Minnesota, and this winter will send be sending me to the nut house in a hurry...I need some sun and a good sunburn.  Or just some weather above 10 degrees...holler if you hear me!

Part 3/3

Well, here it is...part 3/3.  I start out writing this, not really knowing how it will turn out.  So if it seems a little scattered, I apologize.

We had no answers from our doctor, and we weren't sure what to do.  I always wanted kids close in age, and with every misstep in this journey, that dream became less and less of a reality.
We came to the conclusion to just try again.

I again, pushed everything out of my head.  I focused on Hunter.  He turned two on September 21st, so I kept busy by planning that birthday party. September moved to October and we were busy with trips to the cabin, visits with family, and Halloween.

After the doctor appointment, Patrick and I didn't talk much about what happened.  Maybe we should have. Or maybe what should or could have been said, it just wasn't because we wanted to look forward.  I don't know honestly. It was a weird time between us.

It was the beginning of November, and here I was again...late.  We struggled with what to do.  Take a test and know right away, or just let it ride.  Patrick was leaving the next weekend for deer camp, so we decided that it would be best to know before he left.  It was positive.  We were pregnant again.  This time we held our breaths.  He hugged me, and than we went on about our day.  With each passing day, I realized I was still holding my breath.  It was overwhelming.  It's all I could think about.

I was pregnant again....please lord do not let me loose this one. I am not an extremely religious person, but found myself reaching out everyday, every night, anytime my mind wandered off.  I begged, I pleaded.  All I wanted to do was STAY pregnant.

The joy and excitement of that positive pregnancy test had been stolen from me, from us.  I told one friend, I just couldn't bare to tell everyone all over again, that we had suffered yet another miscarriage.  One night, while watching TV, I asked him if he was excited, "I'm nervous."  I was too.  We both knew, that if we suffered yet another miscarriage, it was going to be the toughest thing we would have to face together.

Another week went by, and I had made it to the 6 week mark. As early as this was, it was the farthest along I had been yet, hope started to creep in....even optimism!  I was breathing again.

You know how this part ends...it happened so fast.  As soon as I started to relax about it, I was having another miscarriage.  Miscarriage number three.  The number of miscarriages you need to be flagged on your medical record with "recurrent pregnancy loss."

And Pat and I were right.  This was the hardest one.  I cried like I had never cried before.  Patrick picked me up off the floor, and held on so tight.  He just kept repeating, "It's ok baby. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."  I screamed.  I was SO MAD.  Heartbroken.  My body had completely failed me again, and something I wanted so badly, had slipped through my fingers, and become even more unreachable.

We went back to the doctor's office.  They gave me an ultrasound immediately, to tell me that there was no gestational sac. So I had either passed it already, or wasn't that far along.  They also gave us a plan which consisted of LOTS of blood work ups, ultrasounds and various other tests.   All of them had to be scheduled at least 6 weeks out, they wanted all your hormones to come back down to a normal level.

The first test was blood work.  Holy hell was there a lot of it.  I had no idea they would need so many tubes.  I am the biggest wuss when it comes to needles.  I am affectionately known by my family as Crash, because that is what I do...I crash when I see a needle.  It took over an hour.  I made it out alive, and just checked it off as one step closer to getting to the bottom of our issue.

3 weeks after the blood tests, the results were in.  Everything came back negative.  I was completely healthy.  And the mind fuck about this whole situation, is I wanted something to be wrong with me.  I wanted to have a blood clotting disorder.  I wanted to have some chromosome issue.  At least with the problem defined, you can create a plan on how to fix it.  We were left in the dark even more when everything came back ok.

The next test was called an HSG.  It's a test where they place dye in your uterus through a catheter, and than while the dye flows throw your fallopian tubes, they take xrays of it.  When I scheduled it, they had told me Patrick could come in the room with me, to hold my hand there. We were walking to the room, holding hands.  I was shaking I was so nervous.  When we got to the door, the nurse pointed at a waiting room where Patrick could sit, and directed me to the room where they would take the Xrays.  I panicked.
"No, my husband is coming with."
"That is not standard procedure, there isn't enough room for him in here."
"But I was told he could.  That is NOT what I was told before this appointment."
"I'm sorry, he has to stay here."

"Baby, you will be fine.  I will be right here."

Never in my life have I been so nervous.  The tears started pouring down my face as I left my husband standing in the waiting room. The nurse gave me my instructions and gown, but I didn't hear a word.  I was trying everything I could not to 1. Run.  Just go home and pretend this never happened. or 2. Cry and ask for my mom.  It was not a pretty sight.

I crawled onto the table, and my doctor came in.  I was sitting there alone, ugly crying.  The kind of crying where when you try to talk, your lip spasms and a horrific noise comes out of you?  She placed her hands on my shoulders, "Danielle, please everything will be ok.  I am here with you.  This will be quick, and will get us one step closer to figuring it out."  This was immensely powerful.  She told me to take three deep breaths, and we would get through this together.  If I couldn't have my husband, or my mom, my doctor was a close third.

The procedure started, and it was very quick.  While I was looking up at the ceiling, I closed my eyes and listened to what she was saying, trying my hardest to keep the sobs to a minimum.
Breathe through your nose, and out through your mouth.
Breathe through your nose, and out through your mouth.
Breathe through your nose, and out through your mouth.
Pain...Pressure...Done.
We got to review the images right away...this test came back negative as well.

Patrick and I left the hospital and went out for lunch.  He bought me beer.  We talked about our next steps. We decided to take it slow for awhile. No rush, no time frames, no counting every day and tracking every period.  We are going to continue to live this beautiful life we have built together, and whatever happens...happens.  I realize this is about the hippyish of things to say, but this is what I need to repeat to myself.

Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours to see
Que sera, sera
What will be, will be

:)

Later days,
DMD

Part 2/3

I just want to say a HUGE thank you for the overwhelming amount of support I received from yesterday's post.  Every text, call, facebook message...it meant so much! Really it did.  And to anyone going through this...I can only hope it made you feel a little less alone.  I know this morning when I woke up, I sure did.


The fact that it was summer really helped me move forward.  Every weekend was packed with plans, and I refuse to ever let a summer go to waste.  When you live in a frozen tundra 8 months out of the year...you never EVER let anything ruin a day soaking up sunshine. 

We were spending our week long vacation at the lake, Patrick and I took Hunter swimming at the resort next to our cabin.  I'll never forget this moment.  I was sitting at a table with Hunter, coloring, Pat was outside gabbing away with god knows who.  Kid can talk all day, to everyone/anyone.   He plopped down next to us, like any other time, started telling me who he was talking to and what gossip was going around.  He casually mentioned that a couple we had known, was pregnant again with their second.  I froze.  I looked up at him, and it was like someone had turned on a faucet.  Tears started streaming down my face.  Right there in the damn lodge!  I suddenly felt a thousand eyes on me..."Who is this nut?" is what they were saying. 

Pat said, "Dani, you can't do this here.  Go to the bathroom and breathe."  So I did.  This was not one of those lump up on the floor ugly crys....it was just tears.  I didn't resent this couple, I was happy for them! It should be us sharing that news with everyone, instead of bearing this 100lb lead weight of a secret.  And it made me angry.  When shit like this goes down in my life...I always lean towards anger more than sadness.  When I get angry, I feel more powerful than when I am sad.  To me, sadness is more uncontrollable than anger.  I can focus my anger on something productive.

That was the only time that ever happened.  The rest of the day was kind of a blur, and so was the summer.  We had a great summer as a family.  Patrick was dead set on us moving forward, and whether I wanted to or not, made me move on. 

It was another weekend at the lake, we had bonfires every night.  That Saturday night, I was so dang tired I barely cracked a beer.  I think I was in bed by 10pm...and slept until 9am the next morning. When we got home, I flopped on the couch and slept all day.  I was a huge pile of worthlessness.

That whole week at work, I was tired too.  I kept pushing the thought of pregnancy out of my head. 
"Don't get excited." 
"Just let it play out."
"Just forget it.  You're fine."
"Do not take a pregnancy test."
"Am I pregnant?"
"I think I am pregnant."
"Is this a sign of pregnancy?"
"Should I take a test?"
All these thoughts were playing in my head on repeat...over and over again.  I couldn't make my mind shut off.  So I did what any rationale person would do...I took two tests that afternoon and one the next morning.

All positive.  I left one on the bathroom counter for Patrick to find.  He came out, and said,
"D...did you see this?" 
"Yep." 
I could tell that he was unsure how to react.  Of course we were exited, but we both were very guarded about it.  I would call it...cautiously optimistic.  I guess after the first miscarriage, I had it set in my mind that I would more than likely have a second one.  Two, and I would be done. 
  
I only wish that was the case.

I had gone to the doctor earlier that week to have my HCG levels drawn...I had called they day after to get the results, and the levels were low.  I was still holding onto hope that it was ok they were that low, but in the back of my mind, I knew what it really meant.

It was another Saturday morning, we had a packed schedule with a birthday part to go to later that day.  I woke up, went to the bathroom.  And I was bleeding.  I stood there in complete shock.  After a few minutes, I mumbled...F**K, it was all I could say.

I walked out and told Pat what was going on.  To be honest, I can't even remember what he said, or how he reacted.  I was all over the place.  mad - crying - back to normal - dazed  - angry - confused.  You have got to be shitting me...was the only thing I can remember clearly thinking.

We headed over to the birthday party, not telling anyone.  I thought I would try to distract myself with the commotion of the people and all the kids running around.  But my body had other things in my.    I started cramping pretty bad when we arrived.  Every cramp was like a punch to my gut.  A slap in the face almost.  It got overwhelming.  It didn't help that it was the temperature was in the 90's that day.  The people, the heat, the commotion...it was too much.  I quietly lost it.  I put my sunglasses on to hide the tears, grabbed Pat by the arm and said, "I can't do this babe...I've got to go home."  He only asked once if I was sure...and than made his way around saying goodbyes, blaming our early exit (as all good parents do) on getting Hunter to bed on time.  He did it all for me.

I probably could have toughed it out...I probably should have just sat down, had a beer and relaxed.  And it all would have been fine.  Well, hind sight is always 20/20 right?  I can't let those should have's and would have's run over my life...because boy would they ever. 

Again, it gets kind of blury at this point.  I turned into a robot.  One day at a time.  We eventually made an appointment with our OBGYN, looking for some sort of reason or answer.  We walked away with nothing.  It's another one of those things they said...you aren't abnormal until you have three or more.  Well, great.  Just effing great.  Thanks for nothing. 

Patrick kept repeating, "We'll try again.  It will be fine.  We will try again.  We already have one little guy who I love so much...if for whatever reason we can't have more, than I am happy with just him."  "Yeah, me too."  But I wasn't.  I knew that my family was not complete yet.  And now I was more determined than ever to either figure it out...or get and STAY pregnant.  As my grandma would say...God Dammit Anyway!

Part 1/3

I have been thinking about this post for quite some time. Typed it out and deleted it. Being this open is typically not my style, and yes I know that's the whole purpose of a blog, but me being me...I tend to shy away from anything that reveals too much of myself.

I will start this off by saying, I have no intentions with sharing this. I am not looking for you to feel bad for me.  I am not looking for advice. If we share the same story, than this will show you, that you are not alone.  I want to get it out on "paper" only, because writing has always been therapeutic for me.

It is probably best to break this out in a few different stories, as I want to capture the details, but not bore everyone to death.  I am not looking for you to feel bad for me.

Alright...enough drama for your mama..

I had a miscarriage.  Three in fact.  I am 28, relatively healthy, never had issues getting pregnant with my son, have always had regular periods....but I have had three miscarriages.

The first one was June, 2013.  I had a test leftover, and hadn't been feeling myself lately, so I took the test...and HOLY SHIT it was positive.  YES! I couldn't believe it!  Patrick and I were so happy.  We both walked around with big dumb grins on our faces, we hadn't expected it to happen that fast.

Let me tell you this...you really find out how much alcohol is involved in your everyday life, just like that, you can't have any.  :)

We had plans for dinner that night with some of our family, and of course a few glasses of wine or beers would be had.  It was summer for christ sake! Also, were going to be with family all weekend, and  rumors would start flying if I wasn't tossing back beers with all the cousins.  So Patrick and I started scheming.  We told only our closest family, not even parents, that night, as we were excited and wanted to get it off our chests to at least one person.  If you know Patrick and I, you know we can't keep secrets to save our lives.  We had decided we would tell his parents that weekend, but Pat would be "mixing" my drinks all weekend, so no one else would catch on.

By the end of the weekend, both of his parents knew, and close family.  I was going to wait to tell my parents until we could get up north to visit.  His dad and step-mom cried, they love being grandparents.  His mom and step-dad gave us huge hugs, they were elated.  Other family members, started asking questions about due dates, did we want a boy/girl...all the typical things you ask someone.  Pat and I still could not wipe the dopey grins off of our faces.

The next week of work crawled by...we had no plans for the upcoming weekend, so there wasn't much too look forward to.  We had dinner with some friends, and shared the news with them.  Mind you, I was only 4.5 weeks along at this point, very, very early.  The weekend passed with no excitement.

Monday came and went....than Monday night I went to the bathroom and noticed I was lightly spotting.  Didn't think much of it, but as all smart phone users do, I googled it.  Most posts said it was normal, but of course the only one I paid attention to were the ones with the terrifying news...miscarriage.  

The next morning, I was bleeding pretty heavy.  At this point, I went into robot mode and finished getting ready for work.  If I don't think about it, it will go away.  Pat left for work, before he left he told me to get to the doctor.  He reassured me everything was fine, just to get checked out.   I dropped Hunter off at daycare, and headed to work. I called the doctor on my way in, and made an appointment for later that morning.  When I hung up the phone, I realized I was shaking.  I was about 10 minutes from work, when I lost it.  Bawling. Big, ugly, heaving, sobs.  Mascara everywhere.  I could not go to work.  Everything I had pushed out of my mind, had come back in the form of a Mack truck driving 100mph.

I work with mostly men, and was horrified to call my boss and tell him what was going on.  So I called one of the women I work with, and through my sobs told her I was having a miscarriage, and would not be into work.  She handled it in the exact way I needed, "Danielle, go take care of yourself.  I will handle everything here."

I got to the doctors office, and was told what I already knew.  There wasn't anything they could do.  The doctor put a cold hand on my knee, and told me not to worry, this is very common.  "Happens more often than you think. Stay home for a couple days, the bleeding and cramps are going to get worse."  Great.

So I drove home, and returned one of Patrick's many calls.  I told him everything, and how he understood anything I was saying through the sounds that had replaced my normal voice...I have no idea.  I went home to lay on the couch, and try to sleep.  He met me there, with chinese food he bought for lunch. While I slept on the couch, he laid on the floor next to me, holding my hand.  The gesture was so small, yet so powerful.

I went back to work the next day.   My mind was too restless to relax anyways.  Nobody knew, nobody asked.  I had to sit through countless meetings about revenue, new customers, etc. Typical business bullshit.  All I could think in my head was...miscarriage, miscarriage, miscarriage, over and over again.  When asked to do something or my opinion on something, it took everything I could do to keep my mouth shut.  I wanted to scream, "Who gives a F**K.   I could care less about this, and all of you here.  This is not LIFE."  That anger is still with me.

We looped back around to everyone we told, and shared the news.  Some shared their sympathies, and were very supportive.  Others said nothing. I will speak more to this later.

The days eventually turned into weeks, and that pain lessened.  The broken feeling, faded.  The busy days of summer kept my mind occupied.  One thing that never changed was my husband.  He made me move forward, "This is a total freak thing Danielle, do not get caught up in it.  We will get pregnant again."

And we did....that is part two.

Two followers!?!

Say werrrtt?!

I have to give a big shout out to mah girl Megan, whose been my number one (and only) follower since the beginning of this blog...thanks for always believing in me! Ha!

I don't blog often enough.  It would be way to random, and the humor would be so odd that it would more than likely frighten people.

So with that said...here's a random thought!

Why can I never get out the door on time?  Every night while going to bed I say to myself, "Tomorrow I am going to get up so early! It will only take me 45 minutes to get ready, and than I am out the door!  I bet I will be to work so early I will be able to leave before 4!"

Hahahahahaha....oh D....your optimism and  enthusiasm is commendable, but your lazy ass will always rule.

I hit snooze five plus times, say 5 more minutes in my head, and just end up lying there thinking of all the things I should be doing.  Than when I actually do get going...I wonder to myself why I couldn't have just gotten up early.  So stupid! 

And the kicker?  I love mornings!  I feel like I am most productive in the morning, I enjoy being up early...but lord oh' lord I just love me some schleepy.

This battle has been going on my entire life. And I don't see it changing any time soon, unless my paycheck gets bigger ;)

Later Days,
DMD

Bubba is two!

Well not quite...but Saturday, my brown eyed baby boy turns two!  I am still trying to find where all that time has gone.

 

 From the moment I heard your heart beat, I was in love.  And when I met you, my love for you was so strong, I thought my heart was going to burst.  I have never known a love like that before, until you came along.  In just those first brief seconds, I saw you had your dad's eyes, your grandma's dimples, your grandpa's ears, and my feet.  I vowed in that moment in time, to forever be your fierce protector with every cell in my body, and I would do anything and everything to keep  you happy, healthy, and to make sure you never doubted how loved you were.

From the day you were born to your first birthday, you grew into this chatty, happy, and funny little boy.  You loved SpongeBob, cookies, books, and your grandpa's.  There was nothing else you would rather do than grab your baby and your nook, curl up on the couch with any of your "papa's" and read a book.  Although we have no idea what you are trying to say, but you talk to us about anything and everything.  You are eternally happy, even if you are throwing your body on the floor in a tantrum...it doesn't take long for a smile to follow.

 And now you are two!! I can't believe all the changes this year has brought.   If I thought you were a talker at one, boy were we in for a treat!  It's all chatter all the time with you.  You know exactly what you want, and you aren't afraid to ask.  With every request, there is a "peez" and "tank you."  You've got some serious rhythm kiddo!  We can turn on any song, and you are shaking what your momma gave you and fist pumping to every beat.  You also have a serious addiction to "ice keen."  You ask for it every morning.   You start to holler out, "Mom! Ice keen peez?  Ice keen! Ice keen!" whenever you see a DQ sign.

You love swimming and playing outside.  You love trucks and playing in the dirt.  When you fall, you stand right up, brush your hands off, and continue running at full speed wherever you were going.
Your Papa's are still your favorite people.  Where they are, you are not far behind...asking them to read you a book, take you outside, or tackling them.
You are one of the funniest people I know, you get it from your dad.  He can make you laugh just by making a noise, and boy does he have a lot of them.

Happy 2nd Birthday Hunter Brian Dube! 
You are my happy, funny, outgoing, brown eyed baby boy.  I love you bubba, now let's PARTY!

Finally!

Today is Patrick's last day of class..EVER.  Wow...that permanent word is oh so sweet.
He is completing his apprenticeship program, and we both have been waiting for this day for a VERY long time.

The last 5 years have been a long, LONG road.  Bumpy, yes.  Tough, yes.  Worth it, ya got damn right!  There were moments when he didn't think he could do it, didn't want to do it, and to be honest...I even questioned if we ever would see this day.  But we have! He made it.  And I am so proud of him, I really can't stop saying it.

This guy and I have been together for a very long time.  Many of you know this.  Most to all of you, do not know the struggles we have been through to get to this place.  Which is ok...every couple goes through there own shit.  We have worked hard to get here.  We have fought hard to be here.  I keep saying we, because that is what I think of us as...a we instead of a him and I.  I celebrate his graduation, as much as he does.

He has worked so hard.  Sacrificed countless nights with his son to finish.  He skipped one class, because I was in labor, but was there the very next night...sending me texts of how much he missed his family.  His dedication to get to this day has been inspiring.  He just put his head down, one day at a time, and did what he had to do.  To guarantee a better future for our family.  He is the man I always knew he could be.

I could go on and on, and bore you to death of my love for this man, but I will save that for another post :)
So tonight...mama is going to be waiting for dada to come home so we can celebrate with totty's! (Drinks pervs) Because my man did it!! And I am the proudest wife in the world!