Cervix of steel.

Every pregnancy I've had, I've had a cervix of steel. I went almost 42 weeks with Jules & never dilated one single bit. In fact, I've never naturally dilated. I've always had medications to do it for me. With Blair, that didn't even happen since he was cut out of me.

Today was my 20 (really 19) week scan. Baybee was fine. What we could see of him, since he wasn't very into the idea of being peeked at.

I go see my doctor after. I tell him all of my non-pregnancy related problems. Then, still smiling, he tells me there was one thing he noticed that had nothing to do with the baybee. I thought this was going to be minor & not important.

"Your cervix is shorter than it should be...blah blah blah, I'm talking but you're not listening because you've just heard your baby is fine but your body might kill your baby. And I'm smiling while hoping you don't start hysterically crying like I see you're wanting to right now."

Some of that I made up, but the point is my cervix of steel is shortening, which means I'm at risk for miscarriage & preterm labor in general.

WTF cervix? Seriously?!

I smile & nod in response, while he explained what this meant, which I already knew. And more than anything, I knew this could result in a very bad ending. But things will be peachy, so says the doc, who then gives me 2 weeks worth of Crinone 8%, which is a fancy name vagina gel, & tells me to come back in 2 weeks to see if it's helped "and go from there."

OH OKAY!!!

I stand there awaiting my samples and making my next appointment still with this perky, wide eyed look on my face. If anyone said, well, anything, I was likely to cut someone. Part of me hoped the annoying nurse would pop up & demand my urine again, as I wanted to yell at her anyway. That would have just been a two birds with one stone deal.

I mean, it's nice for my cervix to catch up with the rest of me & be incompetent, but come on.

So I get my purse full of vagina gel...



...and go to Logans. Because when you find out you're going to need vagina gel until 36 weeks (oh did I forget to mention that I'm going to use it till then if we don't need to do anything more drastic?), you need some rolls.

I'm not sure how one really says Crinone...but I like to imagine it as "Cry None." You know, use this right & you cry none because you won't kill your baybee. As I sit at Logan's I ponder what I've done that could have made my cervix angry. I'm scared to even cough now, thinking it'll just shoot open. When people came to the table & asked how we were, I wanted to explain what I had in my purse and ask if they knew anything about vagina gel. That'd be a real help at that point. I jokingly offered to leave a box as a tip. I would have seriously considered it, but this shit isn't covered by my insurance so I've got to be greedy with it. Funny enough, the lower dosage is so if I have to continue this stuff I'll have to use what my insurance pays for & use it TWICE a day to make up for the half sized dose. Oh yeah, it just got better didn't it?

I tried for the rest of the night to convince myself things were alright. Then the baybee started dancing in my belly to Billy Joel's "Moving Out." And I could see him packing up his placenta & wanting out. Following that was "Life Goes On."

Not funny, fate. Not funny at all.

I'm convinced I'm going to end up with my cervix stitched up. Not that I want to do anything I don't have to do, I hope it's a false alarm somehow, but I'd really like the best chance possible of not going through another life altering experience. I've had this bad feeling my entire pregnancy, & honestly expected crappy news all this time. I just never thought it would be something I could truly blame my body for. On top of this, I'm now on blood pressure meds to try to help my constant headaches. Because I didn't take enough pills before anyway. And now I've got vagina gel.

And no, I have no idea why I like the phrase vagina gel. I think it sounds silly & makes it feel less serious.

Everyone is telling me, "It's fine, things will be OK!" but the last time I heard that my baby died. So as much as I joke about this situation, it really sucks. Like alot. All jokes aside, I don't think I could survive anything else happening. I'm not even sure I'd want to.

I've tried learning as much as possible in a few short hours. I've learned that this sucks. Don't google. Ever. Of course, the insert wasn't very helpful either. Like I saw this...



And I freaked out because I've never had a papsdjfhdshjdrkjwre smear! It took me 10 minutes to realize that was a pap smear. Doh.

And these people apparently want me to make this a romantic scene with my vagina gel.



I guess I'm suppose to seduce myself slightly before?

I do have a baby though. Here he is all like 'don't fuckin' stare, bitches."



Such a foul mouth he has.

Blair's first picture with his little brother...



And then there was Jules...



We actually tried to show him different things in the pictures, but he was too busy watching The Pink Panther to care. Only when he heard, "and that's his penis" did Jules actually look over & ask where the penis was. Then he loudly announced, "Oh yes, there it is" & went right back to The Pink Panther.

Here Reid is kicking. Hopefully not my precious snowflake of a cervix...



And I worry he needs an exorcist to visit him in the womb...



Baybee look mad!



Baybee look like a baybee.

Hope he doesn't mind vagina gel.

And me? I love that I now get to play both fields this pregnancy. I have to keep him in so he won't die, but I also have to get him out before he dies. It's a balancing act with high stakes. If I could, I'd be drinking heavily right now.

I'm surrounded by penis.

Everyone say hi to Reid.



Well, his penis anyway.

This is Reid McCoy Culver. As of yesterday, we knew he was in fact a he. And as of today, he's got his own special tag on my blog.

Of course with happy news comes aggravation.

No, we cannot star in a remake of "My 3 Sons" now. We already have 3 sons. This is our 4th.

No, don't be sad because I "didn't get a girl" or tell me how hard you were hoping & praying for this baby to be a girl. I don't care what we have. Seriously. I don't. I want alive. If you're the hoping & praying type, do it for a living baby. That is so much more important & concerning to me than male or female.

I'll get off my soap box now.

Happy gift giving & getting day, folks.

Hey, remember when I use to blog?

Yeah, I don't either.

Alot has gone on in the world of Jessica Culver the pass several weeks.

Let us review.

I have a new job. Seems like I say that alot. Same place, I'm just now special. I'm a case manager, working full time. It's fun because we get breakfast sometimes.



And I wear a princess crown. Just because.



I'z still got a baybee in me.



Dottie, as I've labeled him/her, is all like "Hey hey hey!" We go on the 23th to find out if this baby has indoor or outdoor plumbing. At 9:20pm. Almost 3 hours away.

I've got some dedication.

Jules turned 4 on 12/14.




I went in with 30 balloons.



I made cupcakes.



Blair has been reminding me that my breastmilk wasn't very good because he's been sick. We now own a nebulizer!



AND WE WERE REALLY EXCITED!

Then, because he had so much fun at urgent care a few weeks before, he decided to face plant near the stairs & bust his chin open.



That is Blair awaiting his 5 stitches.

Here is Blair after his 5 stitches.



He obviously got over it quickly.

And 6 days later they came out & life went on.

Overall, they are just fucking awesome.



Not long ago I got pulled over for speeding. Jules was angry, yelling "you were just following those other fast cars!" I got off with a warning, which Jules still didn't like.



I hope this isn't a sign of how he feels about authority as he grows.

We are now, like many of you crazy fucks, are getting ready for the holidays. I'z a wrapping gifts.



Be impressed.

I tried to be festive & listen to Christmas music, but it sucked because they are full of lies.



Anyone who thinks it's the most wonderful time of the year obviously have never wrapped ill shaped toys. People who create package shapes are assholes. Seriously. "I COULD make this a square, but it's make it a fucking hexagon just to scare with the poor saps who paid too much for this for their kid." That's how I imagine the discussion goes in the toy factory.

Truth be told, I'm pretty tormented this holiday season. I feel like this whole dead baby thing isn't just a thing to deal with, but a roller coaster. Constantly up and down. I don't expect to get over it, but I would like to cope better. I would like to not relive it so often. I'd like, well, some fucking peace. Screw world peace, I'd settle for inner peace. I'm not sure if it's being pregnant or just the fact that my baby died that's making this time of year so hard, but like everything else related to Joel that'll just be another question I'll never know the answer to.

And that's what's going on in my life. I'll try to do better, I really will.

How babies are made and other life altering discoveries.

Apparently I’m a breeder.
I’d love to argue that, but jeesh, I kinda am. I love how I say “kinda” because that makes it right. The truth is that I am. I’m a breeder. I’m trying to accept this fact. I really am.
Thankfully, I’m surrounded by total strangers who are more than happy to tell me I’m a breeder.

“…so you wanted your kids this close together?”
Yes, strange lady in the doctors office, I did. Already had small kids, why not add another now instead of later?
“Hmph! Whatever you think, Ms. Jessica!”
I’m so glad this person could totally read my deep, inner thoughts asking for her opinion that I didn’t even know I’d had.
“Was this planned?”

Planned as in I went off birth control or planned as in we had pie charts & graphs? You need to be specific.
“You know how babies are made don’t you? Hehehe”
No. Please tell me.
That sure shut up the hehehe.

“You know, they are saying on TV that if you take Zoloft you should sue because your baby will have birth defects.”
Blair doesn’t have a tail. But that’s for your medical/legal opinion, lady working the front desk answering phone calls.

I'm happy it's happening all early this time around. That just makes it more fun. And by fun, I mean more interesting stories for blogs.

Do over.

Current doctors office feels that this baybee in my belly is viable.

No bleeding or anything makes me feel better about that as well. And, for shits & giggles, all the test I've taken since have been positive.

The ultrasound on the 1st will give us the final answer, but until then I got my knocked up chick goodie bag.



...and coupons as if I were a smoker.

I dunno.

And I've got a couple awesome boys.



This shit better work out.

How are you celebrating Pregnancy & Infant Loss month?

I’m one of those people who go all out, so to celebrate pregnancy & infant loss month I had a dead baby.

…yeah, soak that in, peeps.

A while back I told you we decided to try to breed again.

Apparently we did.

On my cheapo test I had negatives & positives…it was back & forth in the same day, for days. I decided my batch of test just sucked, so I bought I fancy overpriced store test & peed on it.

Truth is, I had a coupon. So I saved $2. Go me!

Anyway, I peed. That little hourglass blinked. And blinked more. I figured it was going to be negative because shouldn’t positive results pop up fast?

Well, not always. Because it popped up at the 3 minute mark. Finally.



And with that, I was safe. I told the world!

Then, hours later, I took the 2nd test in the box for shits & giggles. It took just as long, but I wasn’t worried. I’m pregnant!



Or not.

Confused? Let’s compare.



Still confused? Same here.

Long story short, I was directed to the evil hospital I hates lab. They would do blood test for pregnancy without a doctors order & give results within 2 hours! Much better than going to the doctor & getting blown off a week from now. So I got my exact change of $10 & set out to the lab.

I got my blood drawn like a good little solider. I even made a fucking doctors appointment because I’m pregnant, right? Right!

I called.

I’m not.

My hCg levels are barely what a positive at like 2 weeks out has to be at the minimum, like the very minimum. I should be 4 weeks. So it’s likely a chemical pregnancy. Hence the back & forth test results, chemical pregnancies are famous for that apparently. Learn something new everyday!

Of course, the real fun here is that I have to go to my doctors appointment tomorrow & they will do further blood work, but I’ll also receive my goody bag of baby things I’m sure.

Honestly, as I type this, I’m trying to convince myself things are fine. I did this convincing thing before…on the drive to get induced with Joel. He was still dead though. And I waited for him to cry after he was delivered but guess what? Dead.

Sure, there is still a chance. I’ve had friends tell me their levels are as low as mine & they have baybees now. But a bitch hasn't been that lucky before. Or even if this is a miscarriage, I can have another baybee. I sure did after Joel, so this shouldn’t be any different. But honestly? I can’t do it. I can’t see myself risking this shit again. And I’m not really sure I can survive 9 months of waiting for yet another dead baby.

My genes, body, or whatever else has failed me again. So I’m pretty sure I quit now. After whatever happens with this. As fucked as it may sound, I'm not even sad over the dead baby idea as much as I am feeling like a complete failure of being able to keep one alive.

Oh. It was nice coming into work after this & seeing my newly popped co-worker. And I can't wait until Wednesday with my class full of preggos, including the professor whose taken to rubbing her belly through class lectures.

Doing it again.

Being stupid, we’ve been talking about breeding again.

There are various reasons this is stupid. Allow me to list some.

Money.

Money.

Money.

Money.

Oh, & money.

OK, there are more specific reasons but at the end of the day it’s the money aspect. For example, our house is wee. To have more room, you need money. Kids need clothes and everything else. Money. I’m not sure if we can fit an extra baybee in our car. Need money for a new car.

So see? Money. Makes the world go around.

Of course, now that I’ve accepted that we CAN make it work by some miracle, I’m remembering how involved pregnancy after Joel was. I’ve not even thought about how scary and stressful it is, I’m talking about the ultrasounds. The doctors visits. That last trimester of weekly visits & scans. Waiting to be told your baby is dead every time. The extra blood work to make sure homocysteine levels are good. Taking an insane amount of pills, mainly folic acid, to ensure my homocysteine levels have a chance of staying good so I can avoid blood thinners. Taking MORE pills to ensure the folic acid I’m taking gets the best chance of being absorbed as possible. I took at least a dozen of these pills every night because my insurance hates me & refuses to pay for the pill that I can take ONE of a night & be everything. But since they won’t pay & I can’t pay (see, money) the $200 a month for the pills, I’m stuck with taking my own super combo of hell.

I hate taking pills. So much.

I’d, again, be the time bomb everyone is waiting to detonate. I get to be the knocked up girl who many wonder “why is she risking it again?!” Always fun.

I’d be sick. Tired. Feel like crap.

So really nothing new there.

There are times I feel like a shitty mom anyway, do I really need to add another in the mix? Nothing major there, just the tired & running late for work Jess with crying or questioning children. It’s a fun frustration that I’m sure all parents know.

Then I wonder WHY I would want to do this again. And to be honest, the most disturbing answer is this…I want to know if I can.

There are various reasons, that’s not the main one, but it does bother me that part of me wants to do it as…an experiment? I want to see that I can indeed grow and birth a living baby. I’m selfish like that.

I wrote all that a few days ago. I was full of confusion. I was full of doubt. Fear. Can’t forget the fear. But something clicked. I look at it & realize that down the road I’ll wonder what if. And I have a lifetime of what if crap to deal with for the rest of my life.

And, with that, my IUD was pulled out.

We’re gonna make a baby.

Hold on, folks. We’re in for a hell of a ride, no matter what the outcome is.