There are people out there – not many, I don’t think, and certainly not the majority of religious folk, but I’m talking the end of the spectrum religious people – who believe that using birth control is wrong. And I don’t mean wrong in a I don’t want to use it or an it doesn’t work for my family kind of way. I mean they think it is morally wrong to use any form of birth control. It’s not really hard to understand how they theologicially got to that perspective, either: these are the people who believe that life begins at conception and, furthermore, that God wanted this child to exist. So it’s really not hard to take another step back and for them to say if you use birth control you are getting in the way of what God wants. To them, using birth control is against the word of God. (And I am not making this up – I just had a discussion with someone who believes this.)

The problem I have with this whole line of thinking is how very egotistical it is. I have yet to find two people who believe the exact same things, even two people who go to the very same church. One church-goer fully believes in no birth control, the one sitting beside them says, weeelllll, maybe that’s not exactly what God intended. So who is right? Well, obviously, they both believe they are right and the other person is misinterpreting something. The other person… but not themselves.

I have no issues with people who live their lives according to whatever rules they feel are appropriate, if they are good people. I try very hard to judge people based on what they do, not what they believe. If someone is respectful, is kind, is compassionate, then I don’t really care if you worship Shiva or the Earth Mother or God.

What really, really bothers me is when people start telling me what I need to do in order to be a good person – what I need to believe. When politicians start making legislation based on a religious ideal – say, gay marriage is wrong because god said so – then I start to have some very serious problems with it.

I’ll tell you, readers, that I am scared by much of the politics of this country. I abhor the lies and half-truths that both sides are doing. But most of all I am nervous that people who drive their politics from their religion will get in office. McCain doesn’t really strike me as one of those. Palin, however, does.

I wonder, does she think birth control is wrong? Or does she just fear that if we give our daughters information that they will run away and have more sex? Or maybe she believes that sex should only take place within a marriage, so birth control isn’t necessary. This is very troubling, because these ideals stem from religion. And you might be saying, but Natalie, most peoples’ beliefs and ideals stem from religion. And I agree – it usually does. But trying to pass laws like abstinence-only sex education affects my kids… my heathen, Atheist kids. And my friend’s Pagan kids. And so on. Why should MY children be limited on what they can learn in public school because of a religious belief that my family does not share?? This makes no sense to me. There are private schools, religious schools, for people to enroll their children in if they feel that offended by public school. If they do not wish their child to be taught certain things, then I fully accept their right to bow out of that class, that day, those discussions. I will feel like their child is missing out, but that is their choice for their family. I do not feel like I should force it on someone else… yet they want to remove the choice entirely from me. The public school should be respectful to all the religions in this country, not follow the restrictions of any one.

Same with same-sex marriage. My position has always been very simple: separate the church-wedding and the legal marriage. So if a religion disagrees with a marriage – for whatever reason – then I feel they have the right to not agree to do the marriage in their church, by their ministers. The church does not sanction the marriage. Fine. That’s their perogative. But keep that separate from what is allowed under the law. Some of my friends in Europe had two weddings: a wedding in a courthouse presided over by an official, which made the union legal under the eyes of the law; and then a wedding in a church, presided over by a minister, that made the union legal under the eyes of their god and their church. And to me that is the perfect explanation. They are two separate events that, in America, has been mashed together for far too long. The churches complain that allowing same-sex unions is interfering with what their image of a holy marriage is. I just think we are blurring a line that shoud be made far more distinct.

Just keep religion out of my laws. That’s all I ask. ‘Cause, hey, I happen to have a different one than some of you. And, you know, I think we should all be included. I just think that’s fair. Maybe I’m crazy.

I am just so excited. Did I mention that? Well I am.

Relieved, too. There were times when I really wasn’t sure that I’d be in a place when I was securely planning my next IVF… when I wasn’t really sure we’d ever have another chance. I see this moving forward, and I see us getting that chance… the chance to bring home a baby from the hospital. The thought overwhelms me. I don’t know if my brain can really full grasp it, yet. I’m still too scared that something is going to get in the way. Right now I just focus on getting to the IVF cycle. One step at a time, right?

I think my mind is getting used to the concept that Devin is gone. It’s one thing to know it… it’s another thing to really know it in your heart… to know it when you first wake up, know it in your daydreams. But there are still moments – brief, fleeting moments – when the memory of me being pregnant is so fresh I forget how long it’s been. It’s like a knife twisting in my gut. I never want to forget the joy I felt, the time I spent with him… but remembering it in such clarity just makes it all too obvious what I am lacking. Thankfully those jolts are getting less frequent. They were right… time really does heal even these wounds. I will always have a scar… but it doesn’t throb as painfully or as frequently as it once did.

Some people would react to such a horrific loss by pulling away… putting all baby items in boxes, out of sight… closing up the nursery… getting back to their old life. I can understand that reaction, I really can. But I am not one of those people. I immerse myself in Devin’s things… It’s taken me a long time to put things away. Just this weekend I went through all the sympathy cards we received, catalogued them, and put them in his memory box. They’d all been sitting in a pile on our dining room table for over 6 months. Other gifts I received have also been sitting there on display, the table turned into a small altar, of sorts. It has been hard for me to let go, to clear off space. I still can’t put his memory box away… it’s still sitting there in the living room. Closed (because of the pesky cats), but in plain sight.

Kristi reminded me over email that all Devin ever knew was our love. He spent his entire life safe inside my womb, listening to our voices, our hands pressed against his little feet. He knew we were here. He knew he was loved.

I wait impatiently for the day when I can carry his sibling inside me. Today I let go of the fears and simply revel in the expectancy that our time will come. We will get another chance. And it will be someday soon.

Please spay and neuter your cats. Dogs too, but I see cats as being more of an issue; there are laws about dogs running loose. There are no laws for cats.

I work for a non-profit. We rescue cats. We take in surrenders and pick up strays; we take in pregnant cats, very angry cats, feral cats, old and sick cats. We take them in, we patch them up, and then we try to find them homes. And there is one undeniable truth: a lot more people want to give us cats than want to adopt one. We have cats who have been living at the sanctuary, cared for by us, for over 10 years. There are so many kittens out there, young cats – they can walk down to the MSPCA and be greeted with litters – so why would they want an 8 year old cat who needs a bit of medicine? And most of our cats don’t have overwhelming health issues, either. Some do, sure – and those ones we don’t even list as adoptable. But the ones who are simply old? Or who have been diagnosed with FIV? People pass them over time and time again.

Our organization is getting our name out there. We’re adopting out more cats than we were before. But you know what we’re getting a lot more of? Phonecalls. “I found a cat. It’s in bad shape.” “I have to move, the landlord won’t let me keep the cat.” “My son is allergic, I need to get rid of my cat.” Over and over and over. Multiple calls every single day.

And what gets me most is the sense of indignation these people have. I realize that they have busy lives and there are probably more important things going on than a cat. But they get pissed off when we tell them we can’t take any more. We’re full. Full. We’re privately-funded, upkept with volunteers. We can’t afford to take in any more. We can’t afford the food, the vet bills. And we certainly can’t afford to take in several new cats every single day.

Trust me, it’s not because we don’t care. We wouldn’t be doing this thankless job if we didn’t care. It’s not that we don’t want to help these people – we do. We want nothing more than to take in every unwanted cat. But we physically can’t. And these people say to us well, what am I supposed to do? And we say… we don’t know. There are other shelters in the area. They’re full too. The SPCA will take the cat… because they euthanize probably more than 90% of the cats they take in. That’s a lot of dead cats, people. I couldn’t do that job. But someone does. And they’re probably sick of it.

It astounds me how many people think they can give up 13 year old cat and someone else will “find it a good home.” They walk away with a clear concience. But the truth is, that cat probably died at the hands of a stranger. It probably was a very nice cat, a very friendly cat. There’s just too many nice, friendly cats.

I am frustrated… beyond frustrated. I am angry. I am sad. I see the war raging over abortion – little bundles of cells that could become something. Potential life. And yet here are real creatures – real, live beings with thoughts and feelings, who are scared, who hurt, who want nothing more than to be loved – left forgotten behind an abandoned building. You think they WANT live like that? Hungry and alone? Yelled at and chased by the business owners who don’t want them there? Hit by cars, killed by coyotes? That’s no kind of life for a domesticated animal. As independent and snotty as cats are – and yes, I love them, but they are snotty – they are domesticated. They depend on us. They are spoiled creatures who need us to take care of them.

I just wish people would think ahead. And I wish people didn’t see our organization – which is trying hard to help those cats who are truly in need – as a get-out-of-jail-free card when they no longer have the time to deal with unwanted behavior.

The economy is bad. People are in rough shape. I understand that. It’s just fucking depressing. There’s only so much we can do. At some point we have to admit that we can’t save them all by ourselves.

I was nervous all night, dreaming up bad images of today’s appointment. What if the doctor told me I had some weird, rare chromosomal problem? Or if he didn’t think we could start IVF when I want to? I just don’t want anything to delay this, and I don’t want any more bad news.

I walked in feeling a little flustered, with my list of questions on my clipboard and that article about oocyte maturity and an extended period between trigger and retrieval. I was as prepared as I could be, given the circumstance.

At first I let the doctor tell me about the lab results: everything was normal. Every single damn test we’ve ever run has been normal (and trust me, there have been a lot of tests throughout the infertility and then after the loss). I have no choromosomal abnormality, I have no blood clotting issues. And all of the other myriad things they tested also came back normal. I just nodded – relieved, but it was also what I had expected. I guess once I got there I didn’t really expect anything to be wrong… I must have gotten all the fretting out at night. I really don’t think they’re going to find some sort of smoking gun for my egg maturity issue, not with the tests that they currently run.

When we started talking protocol and what to do next time, that was my cue to pull out the article. I handed it over and said it was something that looked very promising. The doctor looked a little caught off-guard. He said, “It’s not often that I have a patient giving me an article to read.” But he didn’t look offended at all, just surprized that I did that much research. He read the article summary and flipped through the data and said it looks very promising – certainly something to try. We talked briefly about the risk of early ovulation, but we both agree that the risk seems small at 38 hours. He said when they first started doing IVF they experiemented with different time frames… 34, 36, 38. They settled on 36 hours as being having the most success with the lowest risk for the average patient. He said that maybe they need to change it for people like me, who do not fall into that average patient category. (So if this works I could be setting a whole new precident for people with my issue!)

He looked over my protocol for the last two cycles and said that it looked like the first one was a bit too high on stims, but the second cycle – the one I got pregnant on – looked good. I had a good response, and it worked. So he wants to do that same protocol with those same levels again – but with the 38 hour interval between trigger and retreival, in the hopes that matures more of my eggs. He mentioned that another option would be doing an antagonist protocol instead of the lupron (agonist), but he seemed satisfied with my response last cycle.

I mentioned starting BCP in November and his comment was, “Do you need BCP?” He said usually the pill is used for women who don’t ovulate regularly… I do, so I don’t really need it. I shrugged at the time, but after thinking about it I think I want to do the BCP again for two reasons: one, because it’s what we did last time it worked (and I’m loathe to change too much in the fear of totally screwing it up), and two because my cycles have been longer… and delaying the december cycle by a week could very well mean a transfer on Christmas day. Umm, I’d rather avoid that. So I think I’ll request to do BCP again, and I don’t foresee an issue with that – he made it sound like it’s up to me.

In order to get insurance pre-approval for IVF I’ll need a sonohistogram after the loss (to make sure there’s nothing left in there that could impede IVF) and my Day 3 bloods. Since I’m on CD4 today I had the bloodwork done today so that’s out of the way. The sonohistogram will have to wait until next cycle, since I’ll be away next week when it would be done. So next month I’ll call with CD1 and schedule that. The nurse said that “most women say it’s not as bad as an HSG,” that there’s not the same pressure – but it’s the same catheter. I twitched at that. The pressure didn’t bother me… it was the goddamn catheter that killed me. Oh well, hoping for a better experience this time?

And once that’s done it’s a case of waiting for insurance to kick in (Nov 16, remember) and we’ll be doing stims and retrieval/transfer in December! 2 months left to wait!

Today I bought a blanket. I saw it when I walked into the store, hanging with other throw blankets. It was cream and blue and brown, in a mod circle pattern. The first thing that hit me was that it was something I would have bought for Devin’s room – it would have matched perfectly. My step faltered with the thought, but I turned and headed straight towards it, instead of angling away. It was so soft when I touched it… so perfect for a baby. That sealed the deal. I bought it.

I took a nap with it today. And at night when I rolled into Den’s arms for our nighttime snuggle I pulled it with me, clutched tight under my arm.

I told Den that it was the kind of throw blanket I would use to put down for a baby to play on… for Devin to play on. I paused and grabbed Sheepie, and sat him on the blanket.

There’s still sitting there, Sheepie and the blanket, between my husband and me on the bed. I look over, touch the soft blanket, and smile. He would have liked that blanket.

Last night at the party Den’s dad asked me, “So with this new job, it has insurance right? Does that mean you get another two tries?” I leaned forward and replied, “Actually, from what I’ve read, I get unlimited tries.” His face looked shocked and then so excited. “Really?? Oh my god. That’s terrific. Wow, just… oh I’m so glad!!” He also asked if we have any left over from last time to put back or if we have to go through all of it again – he nodded gravely when I said no, we have nothing left over. I was a little amused that he even knew that much about IVF. It seems the family members remember more though I thought.

Other family members were checking in with me to make sure that the insurance is still going through and asking if we have plans to do another cycle. They’re all so excited. You can tell from their voice, from their face. They cannot wait to hear good news for us and they all understand the struggles we have been through. They know it requires a lot for us to get pregnant.

Maybe some people wouldn’t welcome the questions, wouldn’t want everyone knowing when we will be going through it. But I appreciate it. I appreciate their support. I know they all care so much.

If, light forbid, we have another loss they will all be right beside us, crying with us. And when they day comes that we birth a live child they will all be gathered in the hospital room to greet that child, crying with joy, knowing how very much it required for him or her to arrive.

I was going to show you the new purse I got, but then I got these put on my car:

I was a little nervous, at first, putting a decal on my back window like that. But then I realized that I talk about it with everyone anyways. And it is about awareness. Many people don’t even know what stillbirth is. If they see this my window and go home and look it up, well, next time they encounter someone who lost a child they’ll be one step closer to being understanding.

(Both purchased at October15th.com)

Nothing new, but I took a picture of me wearing my necklace, too. (I didn’t realize I had so many freckles on my chest.)

Tonight at a party I got into a long discussion with a family friend about politics and religion. He happens to be very conservative and Christian… I, of course, am extremely liberal and Athiest. But, despite what your first image may be of this discussion, it was actually very pleasant. He’s not the kind of person to talk over you or try to convince you by being loud and pushy – he listened to what I had to say and took the time to try to explain his position. It was really interesting to me. Even though I still disagree, I have always enjoyed the psychology of it all, the finding out others’ beliefs and motivations. Not just what they believe, but why they believe it. And I enjoy giving people things to think about – and being given something to think about. I do not go into these discussions to change someone’s mind… I go in to learn something about the belief system, and something about the person themselves. I find it fascinating. Frustrating, sometimes, but fascinating.

So I figured this would be a good time to finally do Glow in the Woods’ 6×6 for September.

1 | Do you feel as though a higher entity/supreme being/energy force has a presence in your life? What do you call it, and what makes you feel it exists?

Basically, no. In some ways I feel there is an “energy force” that surrounds us that is life itself, but I do not believe it is a being or entity or any time of sentient or organized thing. It’s just… life itself.

2 | Describe, in a word or two, the nature of your spiritual self before and then after the loss of your baby/babies.

This is a hard one because I don’t think my spiritual self has changed much. Before I knew things logically. After I had proof that it really was random and unexplainable and there isn’t a doubt in my mind.

3 | Do you pray, even if you wouldn’t call it praying? To whom? What for?

I talk to myself a lot, actually. Out loud, or in my head. I don’t believe there is anything listening. But I feel like I keep a running blog entry as I go about my life. In a lot of ways it’s habit. In another way it’s trying to remember things, I’m composing what to write down and keep. Sometimes I just have to say it out loud. Do I believe someone is listening? No. But for the same reason I blog: even if no one listened, I still need to write. I need to get it out of my head or it will explode. So sometimes I just speak it out loud, just to release it from inside me.

4 | Is there a particular line of scripture/teaching/sentiment that you find particularly helpful? Or is there one that’s commonly referred to but is unhelpful?

No, not really. There are some quotes that I like – like the one at the top of this blog. But it’s not that it really helps me work through things. It’s more that sometimes other people have said more eloquently what I feel. And I find pretty much any scripture unhelpful, since in order for it to have meaning you need to first believe in the god it refers to!

5 | Did your faith offer rites, rituals or teachings that acknowledged your baby and your healing? If not (or if you didn’t seek it out in an organized fashion), what rites, rituals or mantras have you adopted as your own?

Well, Athiesm is rather the lack of faith, so there are no prescribed rules or rituals or procedures. I did find that the concept of a memorial service was very helpful, even though it’s not something I would have expected for myself. It was non-religious in every way, but I simply needed people to show up and recognize our loss and our suffering. There is nothing else that we have adopted, really. Just little things that have meaning only to us, made up as we go along.

6 | Some people say that in a foxhole (a desperate, life-threatening situation), there are no atheists. You’ve been in a foxhole. Discuss.

Yes, I’ve been in a foxhole… and I still am an Athiest. I guess that whole idea is kind of shot to hell. But really, as I’ve talked about before here in my blog, I find my lack of faith comforts me. I do not need to reconcile my previous beliefs with this terrible thing that happened. I do not need to understand why a loving god would do this… I don’t need to come up with explanations. My belief is that there was no reason. Aweful things happen just by chance, and we just happened to be that person it happened to. Maybe that would make some people upset. I find my peace with it. We are not special. We were not singled out. We were not punished. It was a random pattern and we were on the wrong side of it. That is all.

I realized last week that I am not ready to be pregnant again. Mentally I’m ready. Emotionally I’m ready. Physically… not so much.

I have a vice, and it is not drinking or smoking or any of those such bad things. It is JUNK FOOD. And eating in general. I have been eating out a lot since I got my job (and the extra cash flow that comes with it). I have been giving in to my desires for Dunkin Donuts, McDonalds, whatever else I want. Chips, brownies, processed foods.

I have put on 4lbs… the 4lbs I worked so hard to take off. I feel gross. So one day last week I was looking down at my ever-widening thighs and thought to myself, Shit. I can’t get pregnant now.

I had several goals to attain before getting pregnant. One was going to Six Flags (haven’t yet – the weather is crappy crap), since I’ll be pregnant all next summer. And one was getting in shape so I could start off my pregnancy healthy. Not that 4lbs is a big deal, but to me it is. I want to be prepared.

So. After tonight I think I’m going to have to buckle back down and take those 4lbs off again before December. I can do that… that’s 3 months. No problem.

But food? It is so good. I love food. Sigh.

PS – We have the next RE consult on Monday early AM. Yippee, yipee. Not that I’m expecting much, but still. Hopefully we can set a plan in stone, or at least in wood or something less-than-liquid. This IVF keeps me going forward.

I am pretty much coming to the opinion that I really shouldn’t drink. Ever. At all. Between the feeling sick to my stomach (like, wanting to heave kind of sick) every time I drink even a couple (during the drinking!) to the headache and illness the day after, to the crappy weepy emotions it unlocks… well, the benefits are small, the downsides very large.

There was a party tonight – a retirement party of someone Den works with. It went pretty well, for the most part. But, of course, there was a newborn there. I carefully positioned myself to face in the opposite direction. I didn’t look. I walked clear of that area. But when the baby started crying during a speech I gripped the table. Den squeezed my knee to let me know that he was there and he knew.

There were also a couple of misplaced comments during the evening that were not meant to be hurtful in any way, but just reminded us of what we are missing. Comments about kids, about babies. Reminding us what we should have had.

At home, after lighting the candle and sitting in bed with my laptop, when I looked up to Den holding the candle and staring at it, as if saying goodnight to Devin, I choked. He crawled into bed beside me and I just lost it, sobbing. How could this have happened? How could we be holding a sheep and a candle, instead of our son?

I looked up to see a tear rolling down my husbands cheek. Somehow that hurts most of all. I know he must feel that way when he reads this blog, when he sees me crying… not just hurting inside, but hurting so terribly for your loved one’s pain, as well. It just kills me to know how much sorrow my husband must feel.

At work today I overheard someone talking with the pregnant co-worker. A boy, her first. That’s great, the other person said. Everyone wants a boy first. Then it doesn’t matter. Your husband must be so happy. Every husband wants a son to raise. That cut so deep. I turned to focus on something else, but I couldn’t shut it out. Denis and I lost the same thing, and yet we both experienced my pregnancy differently. We both had similar dreams and hopes for our son, but in many ways I will never understand what he has lost… will never understand his pain. It is so similar to mine, and yet different.

I am so glad he was and is standing beside me. He held me together. We could not stand alone. And yet I wish more than anything that I could spare him this. I wish I could make this right again, to heal his broken heart. But I know that I can’t.