I went to see the doctor early, today rather than Friday, because of the very slight spotting. The spotting has ceased, but I was still worried. They did an exam and the cervix looked pregnant and my uterus measured 10/11 weeks, just as it should. We listened for a heartbeat and couldn’t hear anything on the doppler. So I drank 50 cups of water and waited for the ultrasound tech to consider my bladder full enough to get a good read on the US machine.
Sweet Lil’ Sticker was stickin’, but his little heart wasn’t tickin’. My little bubs measured 9 weeks and 5 days, I am 10 weeks and 2 days.
I’m feeling really blue about it. I guess I had sort of tried to make myself numb to feeling any emotion, and I thought I would be “prepared” either way. But I’m really bummed. I imagined him/her. I named him/ her. Sophia if she was a girl, Elijah if it were a boy. And it’s taken 5+ weeks to get me excited about him/her, so it’s going to take some time to readjust to the idea of not expecting.
I signed the consent forms for my tubal ligation. I have 30 days to change my mind, but I’m sure I won’t. I’ll have a d&c next week, after my cervix has some time to soften unless I start bleeding before then, and then I’ll have surgery sooner.
I heard the words “fetal demise” a million times today– nurses, docs, lab techs, ultrasound techs. What a hard thing to hear. Those words are so hard to wrap around my brain right now. It’s just so hard to explain. I have so much to be grateful for. But, this is a weird, selfish kind of hurt that I’m feeling. This morning I was excited and shopped on eBay for fetal dopplers. I wore maternity clothes to my doctor’s appointment. Tonight I’m writing this to you. How many emotions can a person feel in one day?
Thank you for your well wishing and support, y’all. I’m going to be just fine, especially since I have this amazing family who are all working together to treat me so sweetly tonight. Drop a little prayer for us, for healing. And for all the other mommas out there feeling my same sadness tonight.
Welp, my computer is working again. I’ll tell you more about that later. And I tried to picture myself as a non-blogger for the past few days, but it ain’t gonna happen. Well, if my computer was broken it might have happened. But it’s not. So, anyways… I’m back! And I promised a love story SEVERAL months ago, so I’ll get back on the blogging buggy the right way! My friend Martha won’t let me forget my promise! 
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Bad news is that I found myself spotting tonight. I’m not going to read into anything and I’m hoping it’s just a fluke. Fingers crossed that all is well! I can’t imagine anything but getting to see my healthy little “Sticker” on Friday’s ultrasound, swimming around with his healthy little heart fluttering away…
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And now… The Love Story…
circa 1998
It was January 1997. I was a lonely single mother living in the slummy part (now the historical part) of Asheville when I met Jeremy. I had a few little affairs in the years after I moved away from home, but none of them serious or long lasting. I met Dave, an owner of a home remodeling company that was restoring a historical home a few doors down, right before I met Jeremy. He was a bit older and had 2 little girls. I wanted to date someone who was older than I because I wanted flowers, dates, gifts, doting and the boys my age weren’t doin’ it for me. Turns out Dave wasn’t very good for that either, so it didn’t last long. He had a young carpenter that worked for him, named Jeremy, that I couldn’t keep my eyes off of. He was so totally “my type”– muscley, screaming sex appeal, funny, witty, smart, strong. But, at that point I wasn’t interested in settling down and marrying anyone. I didn’t have a plan to have an amazing husband, a mini-van (or Gas Guzzling Expedition), 4 kids and a mortgage. I just wanted a Luvah. I think that’s just because I thought that’s all I could get. Silly Girl. But perhaps love comes when you quit trying so hard to find it…
Anyways, I loved watching him drive up and down my street in his sexy little Jeep– top down, shirt off, pumping Nine Inch Nails on his tape player (were CDs even round way back then?). I always sat on the stoop of my apartment watching him work on the old house. One day my car battery had died and I was about in tears because I was late for work. I had the hood up on my car, trying to figure out how I was going to get the car out of parallel parking so that I could jump start it on the hill. Suddenly Jeremy pulled up in his Jeep. He jumped out and said hello. Before I could wipe the drool off my chin, he had his jumper cables out and was hooking them to my battery. Just then, Dave drove up the road. Jeremy didn’t want to invade Dave’s “territory” so he jumped my car and was gone before I could even give him my flirtatious thank you smile. I was so bummed! Dangit Dave! Terrible timing. Dave and I weren’t an item anymore, but Jeremy didn’t want to step on Dave’s toes, I guess.
A few weeks later a friend of mine and I were sitting outside on my porch and I was watching Jeremy. She said, “Ok. That’s it. I’m going to go talk to him for you. You obviously aren’t brave enough to do it for yourself.” And off she galloped, up the street. I know I turned 14 shades of red watching her talk to him. I imagined the conversation… “Hi Jeremy. My name is Heather. I know this sounds silly, but my friend Stephanie thinks you’re cute…” Ohhhh. How elementary school! Within a few days, Jeremy and I were having our first date… And I was completely love struck after that!
Jeremy would do these amazing things… like out of a love movie. On our first date (to see Johnny McGuire, no less) he opened doors for me… He held my hand… He was such a perfect gentleman. And the way he would watch me, like I was a Goddess– it just melted me.
On the way home after the movie, we got stopped at a light. He jumped out of his Jeep, ran to the side of the road, and picked an armful of wildflowers for me. He jumped back in the Jeep and handed them to me… Kissed me so sweetly (no man ever kissed me like he did)… the cars waiting at the light behind us were hooting and cheering at him! He was such a thoughtful, patient, nurturing, and affectionate man. I thought it was entirely too good to be true, but it wasn’t at all. It is true, and he is STILL the beautiful, amazing, loving and romantic man he was then.
He was so honest and real. He was oozing with affection and complete attention. It took him no time to figure out when I needed something… A cuddle, a nice quiet dinner, a massage, a tylenol, a compliment, a whatever. He was always so attentive. But no one had ever been as depthful with me as he was. I guess I never knew how close a human being could be to another human being in this way. Sure, I loved my son with all my heart and soul– Austin and I were like peas and carrots. But to have a partner, a companion in life– it was just what I needed.
Within a few months of dating, he proclaimed his love for me and my sweet little Austin (who ADORED him). And I knew, from the depths of my being, that he was the only man I’d ever love again (besides my sons, of course). We moved in together right away, and it was perfect. Perfect. Austin had a consistent father figure whose every decision was based on what was best for our family, and I got to live with my very best friend!
We got married in November of 2000, and had a quick, humble, sweet wedding. We had already been together, living like husband and wife for 3+ years, so a fancy wedding wasn’t necessary (or possible on our budget). We spent our anniversary in Charleston, and moved to Colorado within a week of getting married. We’ve grown so much in ourselves, and as a family since we’ve been here.
I wasn’t close to my father, so it seemed especially appropriate for Austin to give me away at our wedding. He was the sweetest thing, walking me down the aisle. Of course, he didn’t “give” me away. I’ll always belong to Austin too!
I think the most wonderful part of this love story is that we are still so very much in love. A perfect fit. It’s gotten better over the years. I couldn’t have formed a more perfect mate for myself, or a more loving father for my children. I always like to think that, perhaps because I had such a rough beginning in life, God had something special in store for me. And it came in the form of a beautiful, healthy, close little family. I must have done something very, very right. God certainly smiled down on me.
I’ve been in this bloggy slump for a few months, and I’ve not been a very good blog friend to many of you. Remember when I read your blogs every day? I bet you do, and I miss having more time to keep up with you.
But I’ve realized over the last few months that I have a tendency to use my computer too much. For instance, I wake in the morning and can immediately think of a reason to check the news, the weather, causes for leg twitches, how tall Tom Cruise is, etc, etc. etc. Some doctors would call me an addict. I seriously cannot go an entire day without checking my email or blog. And maybe that’s not a bad thing, but I haven’t always been that way. And I never realized it but perhaps I let it distract me too much. I rely on it a little too much.
Jeremy said something to me the other day that got me feeling kind of bad. He’s said it before now, but the way he said it this time kind of made me mooshy…
“Maybe if I painted a keyboard on my chest, I could get as much attention from you as that laptop…”
Ugh. Oh. My heart! I’d NEVER want anyone to feel neglected in my family! And as many times a I’ve tried to use the computer “in moderation”, I somehow tend to use it excessively even when I don’t think I am. And that would probably be alright if Jeremy liked computers or games or television more than he does. But he likes me more. And that’s something special.
The other night Jeremy bet me that Tom Cruise is taller than 5′9 and I insisted he was a bit shorter because I had read it somewhere on the internet somewhere. So, I looked it up on the internet to prove him wrong. And sure enough, he’s like 5′7 or something. After I laughed at Jeremy and flexed my muscles for being right (I usually am), I closed the top of my laptop. I then decided I wanted to open it back up and check to see if a payment went through in my bank account. I opened the lid… Nothing. No lights, no sounds, nothing. It was DEAD!
My computer died again! And I’m sort of happy about it because maybe I can recondition myself to need it less if I just don’t fix it for awhile. Or maybe it’s D-E-A-D and that means I’ll need a new computer. And I’m not going to buy a new computer! No. And would that be all that awful?
So, I don’t want to be hasty and say that I’m done with this blog. But I might be. And I don’t want to be done with y’all because I loves ya! So, I just wanted to let you know what’s going on, why I’ll be visiting less & writing less & such for awhile. I’ll miss you, your loyalty, your friendship. And that’s why I can’t commit to never being on the computer again, just less of a junkie about it. I LOVE my blog. So, if you can stand it, I just need a bit more time to figure out what’s going to happen.
Mainly I have a vacation coming up and a few other terrible expenses looming over me, so the cost of a new computer is just not a priority.
I’ll post again to let you know what happened in the ultrasound on the 1st. Until then, hugs & wish me an easy trip through internet rehab and recovery! I’ve got the shakes and twitches already.
Everything on the Stepherz home front is wonderful. I’m still pregnant– yayyy! 9 weeks and counting… Cramping, no nausea, but still chugging along. I’m as prepared as a person can make themselves for either outcome…
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This year has been an interesting one. I’ve really gotten to know myself more, and I’m thankful for that. I know that I’ve been blessed because Jeremy is a good provider for us, and that allows me the priveledge of being at home with my children and having the extra time to get to know them and myself.
I’ve tried things this year. I’ve tested myself. For instance, I didn’t even know what all the buttons on my old sewing machine did a year ago. I couldn’t even change the tension on my thread without royally screwing something up. I didn’t know how to stitch by hand. I could barely sew a button on. This year I cut off my satellite television, bought a fancy sewing machine, and taught myself to sew. I sewed quilts, adorable clothes, and even made felt fruit and vegetables!
I’ve killed every plant I’ve ever owned until this year. The only plant that grew in my home is the Pothos Ivy and that is because it is indestructible and loves water torture. But this year I decided I wanted a green thumb. And I did it. I mean, I’m not trying to brag, please don’t get me wrong. But, dangit. I’ve greened my own thumb! (try not to pay too much attention to the sweet peas in the front that are trying to test my green thumb. insobordinate suckers.)
It’s funny because a few years ago I couldn’t tell you what I was good at. I didn’t have a hobby. And it’s not like I’m talented or special. That’s not what I mean to put out there. What I’m proud of is that I quit making excuses to try new things or to challenge myself. I just made it happen. Anyone could do it, sure. I did it. I don’t have to envy people who are crafty, or who have time to craft. I’m kinda crafty myself and thanks to this SAHM blessing, I have the time to do it. Even better, I LOVE making things for people. I don’t mind if I never sell another quilt or painting or rose– I just love doing it.
Jeremy pointed out last night how far I’ve come in a few years in the cooking department. When we met (mind you, I was 20), my idea of being ambitious in the kitchen was mac-n-cheese with tuna stirred in, a can of peas, and some butter bread. But now I can cook it up like it ain’t no ones business! I bake, I marinade, I create. I have kitchen equipment and tools! I wear an apron! I MADE the fargin’ apron!
The lettuce and the zuchinni are from my garden! And the steak might not look deelish, but it was a-m-a-z-i-n-g!
And I guess this all comes from reminiscing on my childhood a bit the other day. My mom was a Chef Bouyardee Mom. She was a McDonald’s Drive-through Mom. She never made me eat anything green. Cinnamon Pop-Tarts were not just part of my nutritious breakfast, but usually all of it. And sometimes all of lunch and dinner too. No kidding. She was a modern woman who learned from a modern woman. My grandmother never created with her own two hands what she could buy in an Art Gallery or Designer Clothing Boutique or fancy restaurant. And there’s nothing at all wrong with a modern woman, or with a woman who doesn’t desire making things. I’m just glad that despite that no one ever taught me to cook or sew or to be creative, I did it anyways. That’s kind of neat, I think.
Anyways, I guess I can’t take full credit for the amazing garden. I’ve got a little green thumbed garden gnome named Noah who helps out. He uses this Miracle Gro magic potion that makes my zucchini grow an inch a day! I’ve got zucchini bread coming out of my ears, y’all!
I’m just thankful. I’m blessed. And I’m happy. I’m so glad I quit that desk job and came home.
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