I want to try Blogger Beta and it can not convert my blog. I have no desire to start a new blog just to play with the fun new templates and controls. Bitter, bitter, bitter. Whine, whine, whine.

I hate being left out.

I have a Little People Obsession. Though I will admit it has waned a bit over the years, though if I see any, and I mean any vintage ones I snap them up in a heartbeat. I am more restrained on the new ones, perhaps because we have so freaking many! I have restrained from the new Pirate line even though I secretly covet it. Perhaps if it goes on sale....

But what I can not resist is the holiday ones. And this, I must have this. I just must.

First time this season. Probably not the last. Gas lines, empty shelves, grumpy people. No it's not the former USSR. It's Hurricane Season in Florida! Woohoo! So glad we live in the Sunshine State.

I can't even tell you how weird it is to grocery shop and be thinking - "Oh, better splurge and buy those cherries, who knows when we'll have fresh fruit again." or "Damn, they are out of Parmalat already!" (We all know how yummy Parmalat is! Shelf milk to the uninitiated and one of my MOST important hurricane supplies.)

I can tell you how stressful it is to be in a gas line though. The inkling of fear that there really won't be enough gas. That you might use all of your gas before you get to the pump - it is 95+ degrees here afterall. Hurricane preparation while yes, is somewhat of a luxury of the middle and upper classes as we saw in New Orleans, but honestly it does not matter how much money you have - if there is no gas, there is no gas. Same with bread, with water, with diapers. There just isn't any to be had for love of money. Just imagine going grocery shopping in a half empty store, fighting for that last can of mandarin oranges. Oh how we have fallen to our basest level!

My counter is full of canned fruit, boxes of cereal, bread, peanut butter, crackers, chocolate, marshmallows (what's a hurricane without s'mores!), dried fruit, rice cakes, apples, peaches, avocados, whole watermelons, honeydews. And pop-tarts. Is there anything better than a cold pop-tart for that post-hurricane breakfast? I think not. And there is juice and water and jugs of Arizona Iced Tea and Starbucks Frappucinos - another MUST of hurricane supplies. Who needs electricity for coffee? Not me!

And of course there are all those other things you might not think of for hurricane preparedness. Like all the laundry. Must do all the laundry. Who knows when we'll have electricity again. Better clean the toilets, the bathtubs (have to fill with water anyway to flush said toilets if the power goes out), and actually better just mop all the floors because really who wants to be holed up in a stinking filthy house with loads of dirty laundry? Not me. And every single thing that is outside needs to come in - the bikes on the front porch, the wagon, the plants and planters, the decorative stepping stones, the hose box, the patio furniture, those 3 (3!) slides, the basketball hoop, the soccer net, the fire pit, the ride on toys, the miscellaneous outdoor toys in the bin. All needs to come inside. Yes, that will be oh so fun. But better than having something end up a projectile.

So tomorrow, early to the gas station to fill the containers with gas for the generators. The very sight of those red gas containers makes me nauseous - a symbol of the hurricanes. Quick run to store for Cream of Tartar - need to make playdoh for hours of electricityless entertainment! Perhaps a stop at the beach because there is nothing more beautiful than an angry ocean. A stop for sushi or barbecue for lunch, because who knows when we'll have fresh food again. Or if the BBQ place will still be there when all is said and done. Drag M home from the company (where there is work upon work to do of course) and get our shutters on, bunker down in our now cave like home. Get ready for the storm.

But I am going to a day spa all morning tomorrow and then to lunch - for free! My MIL won a mother/daughter spa package at my son's school auction and she is taking me (of course!). I am so excited. Massage. Manicure. Pedicure. Food. That is my kind of day.

Finally. The pregnancy that started sometime in early April, that I found out about on April 22nd, that ended sometime in late May, that I miscarried on June 6th, ended officially on August 8th. A pregnancy that should have been over in 11 weeks, actually took 19 weeks. It took my body two extra months to finally let the last of the baby go. I got the pathology report back today. What left my body last week was officially termed "product consistent with conception."

Part of me cringes at the thought - I mean really, that is pretty gross - let's call it what it is - gross - that was in there for 2 extra months! And I think that probably explains the bacterial infection that the antibiotic didn't really clear up. Once the mass left my body, the bacterial infection left too. But I had no fever, no ther symptoms that something might not be right. My hCG levels, while not completely zero were not at red flag levels. There were no real signs that anything major was wrong. And maybe it wasn't really. That's the part of me that is sad. Sad that my body held on to this. Sad that it started to wrap uterine tissue around it, whatever it was. TMI ahead. This "it" was a hard rubbery mass like a large peach pit. It was ropey. The pathology report said no more about what it was except for "product" so I think perhaps it was the placenta. That my body just didn't let it go. Despite the rivers of blood with the miscarriage and with the first period, this last bit of the pregnancy held on. When I passed this mass last week I wept like a baby. I thought perhaps this was my baby, the embryo, the fetus. I don't know, maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. Part of me hoped it was, so perhaps I would have known why the miscarriage happened, was it a boy or girl. In the saddest corner of my heart, I think of this lost baby as a girl.

But it is over. Finally. The most recent bloodwork shows my hCG still below 2, still not absolutely zero, but close enough in medical terms. The ultrasound I had on Monday showed an empty, but still slightly enlarged uterus. Though when I had an exam last week my OB said my uterus felt normal in size. They said don't worry, it is not abnormally enlarged. (Right, because I *never* worry!) And there is a simple cyst on my right ovary. I am so tired of the "well, it's not completely normal but it is not really abnormal either" diagnosis. Passing a freaking peach bit of product of conception is not normal! But I can't fault my doctors. My miscarriage was well managed. I had exams, I had blood work every freaking week for 8 weeks. No red flags. Nothing too out of the usual. But still, something unusual happened. Go figure.

In the same way I was proud to have had a natural, unmedicated birth, some part of me was proud too to have had a natural miscarriage. I had faith in my body to do what it needed to do. And on some level I guess it did, it did eventually expel everything it just took a very long time. But never again. Should I ever go through this again I am signing up for the D&C and calling it a day - not that I am saying that is an easy route by any means, that would be like saying a C-section is the easy way out which I know from experience as well that it isn't - but I would at least be comforted to know the doctors got it all.

I am still a bit squeamed out by the whole thing. And tired. And pretty damn sure that there will be no more pregnancies. But M says to just give it time. To heal. To think. We'll see what time brings, but I know I won't ever not look at my boys and not somtimes think of the missing "step."

You knew the hapy cheerful posts from me would not last long. Yes there are more happy things I could write about - my great find at the thrift store today, my funny guy A who is sweet and kind and asks insightful questions and wants to know about my own childhood, or my litte O who starts preschool on Thursday and put such a brave face on at his teacher meet and greet today. Or I could write about the fun impromptu pool and pizza and wine night we had at my house last night with my neighbor moms while all the dads were working late or out of town.

But no, I will speak about that which I can not even speak about right now because I really don't know what to say and the ick factor is so freaking huge, I almost can not bear it. Let's just say that this is the miscarriage that will not end. And I am so freaked out right now, and so frustrated with the telephone tree at my doctor's office I could scream. And a word of advice to any nurses reading this blog - if you tell a woman who sounds crazy worried on the phone that you will call her back after you talk to the doctor, please oh please actually do call her back! Argh. I am so frustrated, and so confused. This is nothing immediately life threatening, but it is icky and probably not a very good thing. And I am tired, so very tired of the whole mess. But at least a sliver of good news - despite the new weirdness, my hCG levels have actually dropped below 2. I am officially not pregnant any more.

But can I just tell you how hard, how terribly hard it is to see the blossoming belly on a mom at my Moms Club who is due two weeks before I would have been? So hard. Pregnant women in general, not so hard to see. Someone going through exactly what I should be going through, and having to hear about it at meetings, so hard.

Anyway, that's my saga. Hopefully I'll have more to say tomorrow, if I can ever actuay get in to see the doctor.

I promise :)

What's to whine about when in my quest to make some money I have managed a fun date night for my husband and I? I have started Mystery Shopping thanks to many many tips and leads from internet friends - this is the beauty of internet friendships, no local competition! And while I have to say I don't love it as much as I thought I would and have found some of it to be more tedious and challenging than I ever thought possible (I have a Masters Degree dammit!), but it is turning into some good extra cash.

So tomorrow night we are going to a high end retailer at the fancy schmancy mall to try some things on and make a small purchase. Then that will be followed by dinner at one of the top new "it" places - and we will be mystery shopping both places, which means getting paid for it and free dinner. Me so happy.

Oh and free babysitting by the grandparents. Is it my fault that the dinner shop specifically stated no kids?

And then my girlfriend calls me up out of the blue and says, I want to do something for you, why don't I take the boys tomorrow morning for a few hours. Um, OK! So I am going to take my self to the beach, pick up some coffee and a chocolate croissant on the way and indulge in some free therapy, reading my book on the beach, in the sun, listening to the sound of the waves. Oh blissful Saturday!

(Oh and in case you were wondering why M and I were not spending our free Saturday morning together at the beach? That would be because he will be with the other woman. His car, his baby, his therapy.)

"An hCG level of less than 5mIU/ml is considered negative for pregnancy, and anything above 25mIU/ml is considered positive for pregnancy."

So if your hCG leve is now 8 (note the drop from 11 to 8!) or anywhere about there, you are neither pregnant or not pregnant. You are something un-named, somewhere in the void that is known as pregancy loss. The process of loss, like the process of grief, knows no rules. To each their own.

I am tired. Tired that I am dragging my kids to the blood lab yet again on Thursday, our standing date. On August 8th it will be officially 2 months from the day of major miscarriage, longer since the slow process actually began. I was only pregnant for 11 weeks. The ending of the pregnancy may take longer than the actual pregnancy.

And I am tired of being crazy in the head. Yesterday I grabbed the Soft Scrub instead of the dishwasher detergant and squirted it all in there. Yes, I would like to wash my dishes with toxic chemicals. Yum.

But life goes on. And I'm actually having a fun little summer with my two boys. Thank goodness for my sweet baby boys. And summer time, and swimming, and the sun.