One of my coworkers accused me of being ‘too loyal’ the other day.  "You have sick days, WHY are you not taking them? You won’t get paid for them? Who takes a half-day for a doctor appointment to check on the status of their MISCARRIAGE?"  And, I didn’t have a good answer. I don’t know. Because it’s who I am?

I did investigate, and found out that I had 6.5 days left of sick time.  And then yesterday, I thought I was going to die.  Okay, not DIE, but I felt like crap.  I drove to work woozy and with the seat-heaters on to act like a heating pad, and when I got to school, even the crabby secretary in charge of scheduling subs said "You look awful! GO HOME!"  Two other teachers agreed with her, and I was trying to be all strong and all, and the secretary would have none of it, so a sub was called in and I was gone by 8:45.

Which is a good thing, I came home, passed a LOT of blood and stuff, and then fell asleep on the couch for more than three HOURS. Unheard of for me.  Dave even came home, made lunch, ate it whilst sitting at my feet on the couch and watching television, and I never even moved. "You were out COLD."  He was here for an HOUR! And I had no clue.

I had my beta in the afternoon, where I’m hoping for a negative result (so odd, to want a negative pregnancy test after a year) that will indicate I’m on track for a totally natural miscarriage. (I’ve mentioned this to a few people, but every time I say miscarriage, I want to follow it with an indignant "of JUSTICE!" I don’t know why.) Today, I’m supposed to have an appointment with the OB, it was scheduled for 12:30 but they just called and asked if I could come in tomorrow at 10:30, but I don’t want to miss school tomorrow, too, so they think they can get me in at 4.

Saturday, I’m going to Portland for a rockin’ party at El Chuck E. Cheese for the almost-5 Liam.  Watch out Ball Pit, here I come!  Sunday, I shift gears to shoot a graduation in central Maine, and then Monday I have a personal day.

The next few weeks, I don’t have a full five day week at all.  Counting down the last few weeks of school:
Week 4: Monday off, all day field trip on Friday = 3 school days
Week 3: Monday off, 2 day overnight 8th grad field trip Thursday/Friday = 2 school days
Week 2: Wednesday off, = 4 school days
Week 1: 8th graders out on Monday for good, graduation on Tuesday, 7th grade all day field trip on Wednesday, last day of school= 1/2 day on Friday = 3.5 school days, but with half the kids, since my 8th graders will be gone.

So, that’s 12.5 school days. I haven’t even counted the band concert (which will take an afternoon) or the awards assembly (which will take a morning) or the French spelling bee (which will take a morning) or all of the ‘marching practice’ the 8th graders have to do. So really, like, ten days of academic instruction. But the last ten days of academic instruction of the school year are well, you know. You remember.  And in all of that, I still have four days of sick time that I may or may not need, depending on the progression of the miscarriage…. of JUSTICE!

The end is near. I can’t wait for summer vacation.

Jay Leno: “Today a flight from Paris to Boston was diverted to Bangor, Maine because a passenger’s name showed up on the no-fly list. Did you ever notice every time there’s a problem with a plane they force planes to go to Bangor, Maine? When did Maine become Devil’s Island all of a sudden? Make them land in Texas. At least everybody there has a gun. They can shoot the guy.”

(It’s because we are the last major airport for flights leaving the US, and the first for flights arriving. We get air-ragers, no-fliers, and Cat Stevens. Whoo-hoo!)

I don’t know why I picture a bus, but I do.  And I’ve used it as my analogy for a long time, that I would feel odd getting on the pregnancy bus before someone that had been waiting longer than me.  And then I was on the bus, in a seat with Lulu and Bizarrogirl, and looking out the window feeling guilty as the doors cloed.  But, as it turns out, my ticket was expired, and I’m back on the bench, waiting.

I knew there was that empty seat, though, and when persephone posted about her most recent mikvah, I wrote to her to say that I hope she got the seat I gave up. 

I just read your post, and oh, I am so filled with hope and good wishes
for you.  I felt like Lulu and I were saving a seat for you on the
pregnancy bus, and maybe you can have mine now.

I’m feeling okay…. If, in 6 cycles I’m not pregnant, I might feel a
lot more angry at this one, but right now, it’s the one positive thing
I can cling to: I can get pregnant. I got there once before.

I hope that my Worst Mother’s Day Ever is your First Mother’s Day Ever.  Take care!

It’s interesting, this triad of Lulu, Persephone and I.  It’s almost a bad joke: "A Christian, an Orthodox Jew, and an Agnostic walk into an OB/GYN office . . ."  We all have our different belief systems.  While Persephone is thinking of me at mikvah, I am wishing for her throughout the day.  Lulu and persephone pray, I wish, send good vibes, try to imagine the good energy looping it’s way down the east coast, and swirling out to the Pacific Ocean. 

It’s part of why I was so excited when Lulu was pregnant, but also sad that Persephone wasn’t. It felt like middle school, like Lulu and I were sharing a mirror and applying lip gloss and Persephone was in the background, waiting for us to finish.  And then I miscarried.

Here’s a verse Jews sometimes say to each other: "They who sow in tears
shall reap in joy."  I hope it comes true for you…

Persephone emailed me that after the email I sent above.  And from her post that day:

I don’t understand why it has to work this way, why there has to be
this confluence of happiness and grief. Why so many have to lose their
heart’s desire just as others receive it.

And today, when I come home and check my Bloglines and click on persephone’s update, I read this entry, and I think "Oh, sweetie! Here’s a sweater and a bag lunch! Share the cookies with Lulu! Call me when you get there, I worry, you know."

The Agnostic wishes are flowing, and have been flowing strongly, to you, persephone.  They will continue to pile up around you, unseen but sincere.  I’m not suffering for your happiness, but I am made happy in my ‘suffering’  by this news.

Firstly, my mobile post from Friday was cut off, apparently, but now it has been edited to reflect the whole message.  I’m sure you were all having a hard time sleeping because of the cliffhanger.

This weekend. Holy cow.  I worked on Friday, and had the semi-formal to run that night.  It actually went well, and the kids had a great time, so I’m glad I managed to pull through.  At one point, the DJ called for the teachers to come on the floor, for this line dance thing they do, and a group of my kids came out of the gym and to the lobby and literally pushed me into the gym, saying "Right here! Mrs S is the best teacher in Glenburn!" and made me do the dance, even though I have ZERO rhythym.  But still, it was cool.  My dad was saying the kids know who the teachers are that rally give a shit about them, and they do.  The kids that were dragging me out were the’bad kids.’  The ones I’ve suspended and detained and called home about.  But, they are also the kids I’ve called home to say "hey, XXX had a really good week, just wanted to let you know" or the kids that I’ve talked to in the hall to say "look, what’s going on is not cool, and it needs to stop, or you’ll get a detention, and not be able to play in the game tonight, so knock it off." 

It was a little irksome that for the big, final, semi-formal dance, where the kids are dressed up and in collared shirts and strapless dresses and all, that there were only two middle school (of six) teachers that showed up to chaperone.  And I found it slightly ironic that the two that were there (myself and the math teacher from the other program) are the two that are leaving (after 2 and 3 years, respectively) to pursue entirely different careers through further education.  Just, interesting, you know? 

The dance brought in 52 food items for the food bank (the prices were $4 for someone who didn’t bring a food donation, and $3 with a food donation — 3 is our regular price, so it was win-win) and we’ll (the NJHS) match it with 52 dollars.   I didn’t get home until 11, though, so I was beat…. and then I had to get up and work the next day.

My parents had arrived in the early evening and were in bed when I got home, but at 4:30 in the morning, my mom was up doing dishes.  DISHES.  And when she does dishes, she bangs every dish together, I SWEAR TO GOD.  And, I have steel cabinets, so everything is louder.  She does it every time, and it drives Dave and I nuts, but she’s doing the dishes, you know? Hard to complain.  Saturday morning, though, I looked at Dave and said "We don’t have that many fucking dishes!"  Argh.

I had showered the night before, and got up and dressed and was out of the house by 6 with my mom to drive to southern Maine, while my Dad went to western Maine.  On the way there, I slept a bit, but started feeling awful.  The bleeding had been heavy on Friday, but was heavier Saturday, and even more so today, and the cramping was intense.  I felt ill.  When we got to the first college, I didn’t think I would make it.  I laid in the car while my mom and the other two workers set up the cameras, and then I went in and gritted my teeth.  My only salvation was finding a hidden women’s locker room, which I used, ahem, 3 times.  Oh, the GI troubles.  (Seriously, though, think of any graduation you’ve ever been to, and how the line to the ladies room is a mile long.  This locker room was totally devoid of any human other than myself every time I went in, which was a relief in so many ways to me, and also to the general public.)  One guy went runnung out a side door and puked on the grass, and an old woman was escorted out after puking on herself, so I do not know what is up with the small private catholic school air.  (Both of my parents have also been ill at this particular school, so maybe it’s just some sort of Catholic curse to weed out the agnostics?)  I made it though, and I managed to get the shot, which was the best part of the morning because I could just shoot and not worry.

After that shoot, we went to lunch where I devoured a fruit cup, and a banana, and a Sobe, and part of a veggie wrap, and we made our way to the civic center for the afternoon job.  That one, I felt better, but it was longer — almost 500 students — and exhausting.  By the time that one finished, it was 6 pm.  And we still had to get HOME.

Mom and I stopped in LLBean, and I got a new raincoat, and then we got dinner in Augusta, and came home.  My dad arrived just before us, having left at 6 to go to western Maine (100 miles) for a job, then turning around and driving 200 miles back to eastern Maine for a prom, and then driving 100 BACK to my house to be ready for today’s job.  Seriously, someone once asked my mom where she lived, and she said "Taurus, Maine" because of the amount of time they spend on the road. (Now they have a Sienna, so they moved. Kind of.)

Today we had an afternoon job an hour away, and it went well, and we made reservations at the inn where Dave and I got married, and picked up Dave and went to dinner.  There was a wedding going on, and it was 45 degrees and pouring, so we spent a lot of time thinking about how remarkable it was to have had 60 degrees and sunshine on Halloween in Maine, and also about how we managed to get such a deal because who the hell gets married on Halloween?  Dad joked about going downstairs and finding the bride’s father to compare receipts.

It was nice, but damn, I have hardly seen my husband until dinner tonight!  I’m getting 20 hours on the clock in 2 days, and put 300 miles on the Outback.  I am freaking exhausted, and so so so glad I scheduled a personal day for tomorrow, knowing I would be working all weekend.  MMmmm, can’t wait to sleep. So tired.

ANYWAY.  I think we’ve decided (reluctantly, but knowing it’s in the best interest of our present and future family) to wait til August to TTC.  I mean, I’ll use the calendar and CM observations as ‘prevention,’ but we had decided to definitely wait one cycle, just to see that everything is okay, and with my long cycles, waiting til August really only means 2 cycles, which makes it easier mentally.  August would give us a (knock wood) May due date, which is the earliest I would feel comfortable with when I consider the GA and grad school benefits and all.  Dave is okay with that, but said "Now that I know we can, I want to do it RIGHT NOW!" but he also said "I know it must be really hard for you to decide to wait, but you’re probably right in doing so." 

Which, it sucks, kind of, but I came up with a really great idea for my final project, that could be my million dollar idea, so I’m not going to put it on the web until I have it fleshed out. But it’s a good one, taking in allll of my strengths and future degree and demands of the community, and oooohhh, it’s good. So I have that to look forward to, and the benefit of finishing my degree for FREE is a really great one.  A bird in hand is worth . . . a baby in the bush? Hrm.  Basically, finishing my degree will give me that next (I don’t want to say last, maybe a Ph. D. in the future will be my LAST degree) level of being able to provide for my future kids, and myself, a better situation. Not so much financially, but with flexibility and/or making better money with less hours away from home, you know?  And it’s only 2 cycles.  2 months, really.  And I’m going to work to improve my health between now and then, and hope for the best when August comes.  It’s only 2 cycles, but I will be SO ready when August gets here. I can’t wait.

You know, only I would start to miscarry on Mother’s Day, and have the most
intense cramping and bleeding on Friday the 13th. Sigh.

Anyway. It sucks because I’m at school, and I’m REALLY bleeding now, I
thought I was yesterday but I’ve taken 400 mg of ibuprofen and it’s still
hurting a lot. I have that goddamn semi-formal tonight, so I’m basically
screwed screwed screwed. This sucks.

I’ve also been looking at the calendar, and trying to figure out what to do
next. Anecdotally, there seems to be a fertility bump in the cycle after a
miscarriage, and I’m torn between ‘wasting’ that to have a better due date
for grad school, or using it and having a mid-semester delivery. And, if I
had JUST started trying, and gotten pregnant right away, the choice would be
simple, I think. Wait til August. But, because it took ten cycles, almost a
year because of their unusual length, I worry about haha, throwing the baby
out with the bathwater. What if I wait and miss the window, and spend
another year or more trying to get pregnant? What if I don’t wait, and it
happens right away, and I’m all yaaay! but it screws with my GA work and
degree? Fuck, this is hard.

At this point, I’m thinking I should wait. But I’m so tempted by the
possibility of being pregnant again soon, you know? I will definitely wait a
full cycle, anyway, and it would be three periods (assuming I bleed 35 days
from this incident, and every 35 after) before I was ‘safe’ as far as having
a post spring semester due date… but then, so much can happen! I could
schedule the hell out of this and still end up screwed in the spring
semester if I had complications (knock wood) or something. And I can’t help
but feel, in my little agnostic spiritualist way, that no matter what
happened it would work out. I might have to bust ass to finish my projects
before May, or I might have to work longer before the baby is due to get all
my hours, or something. This HAPPENS to people, and they work it out.

And then I think, I should take til August to lose some weight, to see how
the Synthroid works for my other systems. (I am really hoping to stay on it,
I’ve had too many symptoms for too long — and a family history, I find out– to make it worth my while.  I’m hoping my
OB/GYN will give me a few months to see if it works out.) Before I had
the shock of the bad ultrasound, I had a shock on the scale.  It
depresses the hell out of me, and I feel like I should lose some before
trying again, that maybe I’d feel better, and that maybe the Synthroid
will help with the depression/weight gain/long
periods/miscarriage/constipation/dry skin etc that I’ve been
experiencing.