Runs in the Family

Part of my motivation to run more was the hope that I’d inspire the kids to want to join in on the activity. When we registered for the Princess Half Marathon weekend races, we signed Cordy and Mira up for the one mile race for kids. We expected to see Cordy cross the finish line first, with Mira further behind. But we were shocked when Mira was the first one sprinting across the finish line in under eleven and a half minutes, with Cordy following about a minute later. Mira quickly recovered from the dash and declared she wanted to try longer distances.

I went looking for a 5k that would be friendly to kid runners, especially if she couldn’t do the distance and we needed to slow walk a part of it. Mira insisted it had to be a race with a medal – the kid takes after me in her love of runner bling. I found out about a new race called the MommyMile, which encouraged kids to run along with their moms, and decided it would be a good first 5k for her to do in late April. And it had a medal.

Thanks to some bad weather, we didn’t get in as much training as I would have liked for Mira. The day of the race was chilly, which made me worry that she’d decide she didn’t want to do it anymore. Getting up early on the weekend is bad enough, but getting up early to go out into the cold is even less exciting to a seven year old. Surprisingly, she was still ready to go and looking forward to the race.

Before Mira's first 5k

I had a deliberately slow plan for us: we’d do intervals of 30 seconds of running, followed by one minute of walking. I can run faster intervals than that, but I didn’t want to wear Mira out too quickly.

At the start line, Mira was bouncing with energy, so excited to get started. I reminded her that during our run intervals, she needed to not go at 100% or she’d run out of steam. She agreed that she would run slow and conserve her energy.

Crossing the start line, though, she shot ahead of me, weaving in and out of people with an enormous smile on her face as she glanced back to check where I was. I had to push myself to keep up with her. When my Garmin watch signaled it was time to walk, I called out to her and she slowed, waiting for me to catch up to her. I reminded her to pace herself, and she replied that she was running slow. We repeated this process for several sets of intervals.

But then right before the first mile marker, it caught up to her. She looked out of breath and she told me her side was hurting. “Let’s walk this next run interval and take some deep breaths,” I suggested. She was happy to comply. After she caught her breath, I again suggested running slower, and she finally agreed with me.

Now that she wasn’t huffing and puffing, though, she had enough air to complain:

“This second mile is taking forever!”

“Where is the water station?”

“OMG, we have to run uphill again?”

“I’m SO tired and my feet hurt!”

I can’t blame her – I have many of those same thoughts in the middle of a race, although I usually only say them in my head.

I remained her coach through the entire race, reminding her that she can do anything for 30 seconds, and that she was stronger than she thought she was. I reminded her about the medal at the end, too, and that she had to finish the race to earn the medal.

As we reached the last half mile, the smile returned to her face. “We’re almost there! I can see it!” She had renewed energy and started to run a little bit faster. Seeing people cheering for the runners at the end helped boost her spirits, too. She yelled thank you to those cheering us on as we passed them.

We made the final turn, and with the finish line in sight Mira sprinted towards it as she waved at Aaron and Cordy cheering for us. I could see how proud she was to finish the race and collect her medal. I was proud of her for sticking with it and not giving up.

And – like many runners – despite the complaining during the race, after she had a snack and some water and rested for a bit, Mira asked, “When can I do another 5k?”

Welcome to the club, kid.

Mira's first 5k medal



The Month of Too Much

There are some months that are just so full – of both good and bad – that you want them to be over as quickly as possible, if just to catch your breath and get back to some sense of normalcy. That was March for me. We’re already halfway into April, and I’m still trying to recover from the previous month.

Just a week after returning from Disney, I received a call from my mother on a Saturday morning letting me know that my grandmother had died. I want to add “unexpectedly” to that sentence, but at the same time I know that when you’re 94 years old, it isn’t an unexpected event for the body to decide it’s done. But she was tough, and despite some setbacks she had still been living on her own.

My mom found her that morning when she went to her house to pick her up for her hair appointment. They were able to reconstruct that it happened the night before, after dinner but before she went to bed. The TV was still on, and her crochet project was unfinished. There was comfort in knowing that it was likely quick and painless – she didn’t even have time to push her Lifealert button. If only we could all be so lucky to live to at least 94 years old and pass so easily.

Cordy and Mira were devastated to learn about their GG being gone. The funeral was difficult, especially since my grandmother had requested a closed casket and Cordy wanted to see her one last time. Instead, Cordy and Mira asked for paper and they each wrote GG a letter to say how much they loved her and how much she’d be missed. The funeral director then slipped the letters inside the casket after the funeral for the girls.

My grandmother was the definition of a strong woman. Raised during the Depression, she then went on to join the military in WWII as a WAVES recruit. She then married and lived on a farm without indoor plumbing for many years while raising three daughters. She helped ensure that all three of her daughters went to college. My grandfather died in 1976, and she carried on by herself after his death. She was the most practical person I’ve ever met. And while I can’t remember ever hearing the words “I love you” ever spoken by her, she showed her love for others through her actions.

She’ll be missed.

Grandma Straley with Cordy and Mira Grandma Straley with Cordy and Mira in 2008

In-between the news of my grandmother’s death and her funeral, Aaron and I celebrated our 12th anniversary. With everything going on at the time, we weren’t able to do anything grand on that day, but we still went out to eat with the kids and told them all about our wedding day (again). We really weren’t planning to do much, anyway, since our trip to Disney was our big anniversary gift to each other.

Twelve years has gone by quickly, and I couldn’t imagine being here today without Aaron as my partner. I hope we’ll have many more anniversaries to celebrate together.

Just married

March was also my follow-up appointment after my miscarriage. My doctor shared that the lab results showed there were no chromosomal abnormalities detected. While we’ll never know exactly what caused it, it was likely the result of something going wrong in cell division. We also found out that “it” was a “she” even though I had a feeling it was a boy. I guess that means we’re keeping our unbroken record of three generations of all females on my mom’s side.

Cordy also had some rough moments at school near the end of March. She’s had some trouble handling all of her emotions lately, and frustration/anger has been the hardest. A few bad choices in response to a change in her routine landed her in the resource room one week and the principal’s office the next week. Cognitively she knows that if she starts to feel angry she should stop, take a few deep breaths, and find a healthy way to express her anger. But she has no filter between brain and action, and so when she’s in the heat of the moment, all of the rules that she can recite so easily are forgotten and it’s game on. We’re trying to teach her to put a big red stop sign in her head whenever her anger rises, to keep her from saying or doing something she shouldn’t, but I have a feeling this will take a lot of repetition before it sticks.

There was some good school news in March, too. The gifted service plan was changed, after months of work from the gifted workgroup (which I was a part of), and the district approved all of the changes, including forming our first gifted academy. The self-contained school will be made up entirely of gifted students, and will allow the teachers of gifted classes the chance to collaborate in one location. Both Cordy and Mira are eligible for the new school, and it’s my hope this will be a good change for them. It was a tough choice, though, because I love the school they’re currently at, but the new school will be closer to home, and will serve grades 3-8, meaning Cordy shouldn’t need to switch schools again for middle school.

And then, just to make sure we weren’t getting complacent at the end of March, Aaron’s car decided it had reached its limit, and the repairs needed were more than the value of the car. We were hoping to make it until the end of the summer without needing to buy a new car, but instead we found ourselves with two days to pick out a new car. Lucky for us, there were some great sales going on at the end of March, and so we found a new car that (mostly) meets our budget.

Our new car Our new commuter car.

After March, I’m ready for a few quiet months. Boredom would be a welcome change.



Race Recap – runDisney Princess Enchanted 10k (Part 2)

[Note: This is part 2. You can find the first half of my recap in Part 1.]

Race Recap: runDisney's Enchanted 10k

The Race

At 5:30am, the Fairy Godmother took the stage with the race announcers, and provided the countdown for the first corral. Fireworks burst into the sky as the first group took off running.

Enchanted 10k Fireworks The first corral’s fireworks signaling the start of the race.

I shivered and continued to wait as three more corrals moved past us to the start line and went through their own countdowns. Finally, it was our turn.

My mylar blanket fell off of me as the group was moved to the start line. I wasn’t going to need it much longer anyway. I tightened my shoelaces and then bounced on my toes to warm up my legs while waiting for our moment. And then the fireworks went off for us – it was time to run.

Enchanted 10k starting line Blurry picture, but there was a lot going on in that moment.

Despite being cold and tired, I was going on pure adrenaline at this point. It was about half a minute before the crowd thinned out enough to actually run, but I burst across the starting line ready to fly with my Garmin watch signaling my intervals and my phone playing music from my running playlist.

I skipped my first walk interval because I was feeling so good. (Note to self: stop skipping your first walk interval. It only makes you slower later.) About half a mile down the road, I saw the first character appearance. Anna and Elsa were set up on a Frozen-themed overpass that we ran under. Disney, being a wise company, made sure there was no way to go meet Anna and Elsa or get a photo with them – the lines would have been unmanageable. But they had microphones and were waving and talking to the crowd as we ran below.

As I approached, I wanted them to notice me, since I was dressed as Elsa in her coronation outfit. I waved up to them, and caught Anna’s eye. She waved back and said, “Oh, Elsa, it must be corneration day! Uh, I mean, coronation day!” That recognition made my heart happy.

Skipping my first walk interval and parts of additional walk intervals caught up to me at the end of the first mile. I was suddenly tired, and about to turn the corner to climb a huge overpass. As I made the 180 degree turn, I worried I wasn’t going to be able to make it if I was this tired already. But I looked down at the road below, where I had been, and saw all of the people still behind me, some walking, some running. All shapes, all sizes. I wasn’t going to let my first moment of doubt bring me down.

And then, on that road below, I saw the balloon ladies. For those who don’t know, the balloon ladies are volunteers with large Disney balloons tied to them, who are the last to cross the start line, and keep the minimum 16 minute per mile pace. As long as you’re ahead of them, you won’t be swept from (pulled out of) the race. I’m told they’re a wonderfully supportive group of ladies who encourage all near them to keep going, but it’s also true that seeing them can make you very afraid. Yes, they were still nearly a quarter of a mile behind me, but that still felt too close for comfort. Seeing them gave me that extra push to make it to mile two faster than I made it to mile one.

There were a few characters along the route that you could stop and get photos with, but I didn’t stop out of fear of time. I passed by Alice and the card soldiers from the Queen of Hearts, then Tinkerbell and her fairy friends, and then we took an exit ramp that would lead us into the backstage area of Epcot. So far we had only been running on roads, but I was excited to run in the park itself. Greeting us at the backstage entrance were performers on stilts who waved and high-fived (or low-fived in their case) the runners who passed by.

We made another turn through a gate and I found myself in the World Showcase area of Epcot. The sun was up at this point, but still low, and everything had a beautiful glow to it. While I still wasn’t willing to stop and wait in lines to meet characters (Marie from Aristocats was in this area, as was Minnie Mouse in her princess dress), I did quickly run to the water’s edge for a selfie with Epcot’s Spaceship Earth in the background.

Selfie at EpcotOnly a little sweaty at this point, thanks to the chilly air.

After crossing the bridge from the France pavilion, we exited Epcot towards the Boardwalk resort. My second moment of doubt was hitting me as we ran up a hill to cross the bridge to the Boardwalk. I was tired, I was now starting to get sweaty, and I didn’t know how so many of the people around me looked so refreshed. Good acting? It was also while at the Boardwalk that I saw a woman walking the opposite direction with her 10k medal already around her neck. I had over two miles to go, while some were already DONE?

Luckily, this second moment of doubt was squashed by two excellently timed mood-boosters. First, there was a great crowd of spectators all along the Boardwalk, holding up signs of support and cheering us on. Knowing that they were still there cheering for those of us who were slower restored a lot of my confidence. If these strangers felt we could do it, then we could.

And the second was my running music playlist (on shuffle) serving up “Let It Go” into my headphones at just the right time. Yes, that song has been overplayed to death, but at the right moment, when you’re in the right emotional state, it’s like you’re hearing it for the first time and suddenly everything makes sense. Emotions are weird, and the timing of when they bubble up thoughts to the forefront of your mind is bizarre. There were tears in my eyes running through that area, but they were (mostly) tears of gratitude that I was at that race, and that I was doing it despite setbacks from the previous months.

Coming around the loop and back towards Epcot, sheer will was keeping me going past mile five. I had never run further than five miles before this, so the last 1.2 was all new territory. I was letting myself take more walk breaks through my run intervals because my legs felt heavy and sluggish.

I started to see the backstage area for Epcot again, and knew that once we were back inside the park it was a short distance around Spaceship Earth and out the gate to the finish line. It was serious effort to force myself to run at that point, and I would stumble a little each time a run interval ended – slowing to a walk was difficult when I could no longer feel my legs.

I made my way around Spaceship Earth, knowing the finish was just a little further. I even smiled and looked happy for the official photographers out on the course. Just as we entered the parking lot area for the final turn to the finish line, I heard Aaron yelling my name over my music. I turned to see him and the girls waving wildly at me and cheering. Seeing them was that last little boost I needed, and I pushed myself a little harder towards the big pink banner.

near the finishAaron’s photo as I just noticed them.

Crossing the finish line is such a rush. You’re exhausted, you want to collapse in a heap, but at the same time you’re victorious and want to take on the world. Or maybe you’re delirious – it’s hard to say. I was in a daze after finishing, stumbling forward towards the volunteers holding medals. I remember one of them putting a medal around my neck and congratulating me, and I smiled and gave a hoarse thank you back to her.

I then walked a little further, taking a water, a Powerade, and a snack box as I passed each table in the recovery area, and genuinely thanking each volunteer – they were handing me what I needed to recover, and I appreciated them for that. All of the volunteers I encountered were fantastic and helped make the event a positive experience with their enthusiasm and their encouragement.

Coincidentally, I reached the exit of the recovery area just as Aaron and the kids reached that same point from the other side. My hands were completely full, and I was starting to shiver and feel weak, so Aaron swiftly swept some of the items out of my hands so I could focus on getting the Powerade open. Once I had a little bit to eat and drink, it all sunk in. I did it. My first ever 10k distance, my first official runDisney race, and I did it.

I expected to cry at the finish line, but other than slightly watery eyes, it didn’t happen. Those tears were only during that emotional midway point at the Boardwalk, when my body started to protest going any further but my spirit said, “Nope! Not giving up today!” Maybe I was too happy to cry at the end? Maybe there was nothing to cry about? Maybe I was dehydrated? It didn’t matter – I was proud of my accomplishment, and happy to have run my first 10k at Disney.

Enchanted 10k Conquered And happy to have that bling around my neck!

Final Thoughts

The Princess Enchanted 10k was everything I expected and more. The course was great, the on-course entertainment kept my spirit up and made it fun, the other runners were friendly and encouraging, the volunteers were top notch, and you really can’t beat the experience of running through a Disney park.

Yes, it was a struggle to get through all 6.2 miles of it, and there were parts where I was dealing with aches and struggling. Despite those moments, though, it was fun. I can’t even believe I’m writing that running 6.2 miles was fun – the me from two years before this moment would totally roll her eyes at me. But it was fun. During the race, I wasn’t thinking about how many calories I was burning, or how running was going to get me into better shape. I was thinking about how cool it was to run at Disney, how running with a pack of people past Spaceship Earth was surreal, and how happy I was that my legs were strong enough to carry me through it all.

Showing off the medalYes, I wore that medal for the rest of our week at Disney.

A little over a week ago I ran a four mile St. Patrick’s Day race – my first race since the Enchanted 10k. During that run, I found myself wishing for Disney music and characters along the course. It wasn’t quite the same, running through neighborhoods and across a golf course without on-course entertainment and Minnie Mouse waiting at the finish line.

And like much of Disney, it’s easy to get addicted. I’m already planning my next runDisney event, and I’m going to push myself even further. I recently registered for the Wine & Dine Half Marathon at Walt Disney World in November. A half marathon sounds impossible to me right now, but I have months to get myself ready. It wasn’t that long ago that a 10k seemed impossible. Now I have a new dream to chase.



Race Recap – runDisney Princess Enchanted 10k (Part 1)

[Note: I tried writing this recap as a single post. It was nearly 3000 words. To spare your eyes, I’m breaking it up into two parts.]

Race Recap: runDisney's Enchanted 10k

It was after last year’s Disney Social Media Moms Conference, where I ran a two mile fun run through Disneyland, that I decided I wanted to run in a runDisney race event. I loved running through the parks, and wanted to do it as part of an official race, with a medal. I really hadn’t run anything more than a 5k, and the idea of traveling across several states just to run another 5k was not going to work. If I was going to do it, I had to challenge myself to something bigger.

I registered for the Enchanted 10k, part of the Princess Half Marathon weekend at Walt Disney World, back in July, so I was committed to this race months ahead of time. It’s a good thing, too, because I needed the extra time to get ready for it. An injury in mid-October led me to missing out on weeks of running as I rested my foot, tried to run again, injured it again, and then spent six weeks in a boot. When I was released to run again in mid-January, my orthopedic doctor recommended I take it slow and drop out of the 10k, because I wouldn’t have enough time to get ready for it. While I appreciated his opinion, I wasn’t letting this race slip past me. I got back into running, despite the cold weather, and did my best to increase my mileage again at a reasonable, but quick, rate.

A few weeks before the race, I had completed five miles. That was as far as I’d get before the race, due to needing time to rest and recover after losing my pregnancy. That moment left me emotionally raw. I lost one of the things I was looking forward to this year, and so when looking at this chance to run through a Disney park, I refused to lose this experience, too. I knew I could make it five miles, so another 1.2 was possible, even if it was just walking.

The Day Before the Race

We arrived in Walt Disney World on February 20, the morning of the Frozen 5k. On one hand, I wish I had done that race just because the medal was so cute. On the other, the 5k lived up to its name by setting a record low temperature that day – below freezing. It was – literally – the Frozen 5k. Perhaps it was a good thing that I missed it.

We skipped going right to our resort and instead went to the ESPN Wide World of Sports complex to pick up our race bibs at the Princess Half Marathon Expo. This was the second day of the expo, so there wasn’t as much of a crowd.

Enchanted 10k signGetting a photo in front of my race banner on a very chilly morning.

We received our bibs with practically no waiting, and the official merchandise lines weren’t that long, either. (Sadly, the Dooney & Bourke PHM purses sold out on the first day, so I missed my chance of getting one.)

The second area of the expo was a little more crowded, with lots of vendors to see, including my favorite SparkleSkirts. It was a run-nerd’s paradise of gear. I bought a new SparkleSkirt, and picked up the RawThreads hoodie that I had pre-ordered, while Aaron bought a new pair of sunglasses.

The kids were less thrilled to look at running gear all day, so we cut our time in the expo short, but not before spotting Jeff Galloway and stopping for a photo and an autograph.

Meeting Jeff Galloway

Jeff Galloway is the trainer for runDisney, and his run-walk-run method has helped many new runners cross the finish line. After I tried different couch-to-5k programs with little success (I almost always failed when I reached the 8 or 10 minute long running segments), I decided to give his method of interval running a try. It’s because of his method that I was confident that I could do this race, and I recommend him to all new runners I meet.

After the expo, we checked in to our resort, Port Orleans Riverside. We stayed at Port Orleans Riverside two years ago in one of the Princess rooms. This time we stayed on the other side of Riverside – Alligator Bayou. These rooms are decorated to have a more rustic look, but the bonus is that they also have a fold down bed.

Port Orleans Riverside Bayou Room The wooden box/bench on the left folds down into a bed.

We knew Mira was an active sleeper, but didn’t realize just how active until our stop on the drive down the night before, when sharing a bed with Cordy proved almost impossible. Mira woke Cordy up several times with her constant shifting around in bed. Having the fold-down bed in our resort room was perfect – now each kid could have her own bed!

My race was the next morning, and I was focused on drinking as much water as I could, stretching, and preparing myself. But I didn’t want to stay in the room all day, so we went to Magic Kingdom for a few hours, with the knowledge that I wanted to be in bed by 9pm and not do too much walking. That was still plenty of time to meet a couple of princesses, ride Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, and eat dinner before going back to the room.

Cinderella Castle Seriously, I will never get tired of this view.

The Morning of the Race

My alarm went off just before 3am. Wait, 3am, you say? Yes, runDisney events start very early in the morning, and to be on the bus in time, it’s best to be out at the bus stop at 3:30am. I quickly got my running costume on (details on my costume will be another post), tried to do something with my hair and makeup, made sure I had everything I needed, and left the room to catch the bus.

10k race costumeThe “flat me” for the race – making sure I had everything I needed.

OMG it was cold outside. Not as cold as the people who ran the Frozen 5k endured, but it was still unusually cold for Florida at 39 degrees. I had leggings and a long sleeve shirt under my costume, but it still felt cold walking through the resort to the bus stop.

A bus was waiting and I enjoyed the short ride to sit and eat my bagel for breakfast. Once we arrived in the Epcot parking lot, I followed the thousands of people streaming into the race area. There were large clusters of people gathered around outdoor heaters. It was at this point that I pulled out my mylar blanket to help me stay warm.

Pre-race selfie Forget what you’ve heard, the cold did bother me.

It wasn’t long before we were sent to our corrals. I was disappointed to be in the last corral, worried that I’d have very little cushion to finish under the time limit, but I was still determined to finish. The corral was packed, and I worked my way up as close to the front of the corral as I could.

The corralLooking towards the front of corral E. (At least twice as many people behind me.)

Once we were in our corrals, we waited. I’m not sure how long we waited in the corrals. It was probably not as long as it felt to me. I refused to release my death grip on my mylar blanket and risk letting cold air in long enough to check my watch.

And then? Finally, it was go time. [To be continued in Part 2, which can be found here.]



Broken

Last month, we had what might be the biggest surprise we’ve ever experienced: I was pregnant. Unlike our first two, this one wasn’t planned or expected. Over a year ago, we had considered the possibility of a third child. A year of not preventing, but not trying, yielded no pregnancy. I had started to think I was moving into peri-menopause based on symptoms I had.

So that positive pregnancy test was a shock. I’d be lying if I told you we were instantly excited. Aaron and I had started the new year making plans for the year ahead, and that included increasing our running, more travel, visiting amusement parks…lots of things that were more complicated with a pregnancy/baby in the mix.

The first couple of weeks were filled with quiet discussions of worry and doubt. Were we really ready for this? Could we handle starting over again with a baby when our youngest will be eight this year? Did we need a larger car? Are we too old?

We talked after the kids went to bed, not willing to share the news with them at this point. After all, the first trimester is when a miscarriage is most likely, and since I’m officially AMA (Advanced Maternal Age – meaning I’m old), there was a higher risk of complications. We planned to tell the kids right before our trip to Walt Disney World, and if all was well, we’d announce our news to the world after I ran the Enchanted 10k.

Slowly, as the early pregnancy fatigue set in and I considered needing a new bra for my sudden buxom chest, we settled into an acceptance that this was happening. We began to get excited at planning for a new little person in our family, still keeping the news of this new addition to ourselves and only a few other people. We discussed baby names and wondered if Mira would enjoy being a helper for her little brother or sister. I marveled that I had practically no morning sickness this time (as opposed to my 24/7 nausea with Cordy and Mira), and I was assured by my doctor’s nurse that it was totally normal, as every pregnancy is different. While this was inconvenient timing, we knew we had the resources and the ability to care for a third child, and we’d make it work.

As my first doctor’s visit approached last week, I was nervous. Not excited, nervous. I had this nagging worry in my head, and needed to see that little blurry blob on the screen, healthy and growing. The ambivalence I felt when we first saw that positive test had changed, and I had now grown attached to this new life growing inside me.

On Thursday morning, after going through the usual questions and exam, it was time for my first ultrasound. My doctor and I had been chatting away the entire appointment: she asked how the kids were doing and about our upcoming vacation, I received reassurance that it’s fine to continue running while pregnant as long as I stay hydrated and listen to my body, we laughed about how the universe has a funny sense of timing.

And then as the image appeared on the screen, she fell silent. That was my first clue. She clicked to snap an image, clicking twice more to measure the image on the screen, then taking another image and measuring again. She finally broke the gaping silence with, “You’re 9 weeks pregnant, but the baby is only measuring 8 weeks, 3 days…”

That didn’t seem like a big discrepancy, but then came the confirmation of what I was also seeing on the screen: “…and I’m so sorry to say this, but I’m not seeing a heartbeat. By this point there should be a very visible heartbeat.” I knew this long before she said it. During her silence, I stared at the screen and could make out the head, the body, and the little arm buds, but I knew there should be a flicker on the screen coming from the body section. The body was still – no hint of a flicker.

Ultrasound image of baby 3

“Yeah, I noticed that, too. Okay…” was all I could say at that point. There was no rush of emotion in that moment. I was in my clinical mind, as if what was on the screen didn’t belong to me. I don’t know why it didn’t hit me at that point. Maybe I was trying to be brave and not make it harder on my doctor to deliver such bad news. Maybe I was just numb.

She then began discussing the options of what to do next. I could wait it out and have a natural miscarriage, but there was a strong chance I’d be going through that while we were at Disney, and could risk having a partial miscarriage, requiring followup. I could try a pill to help speed things along, but it only had about a 50% chance of success this far along. Or I could have a D&C (Dilation and Curettage), removing everything at once so I’d be mostly healed in time for our trip. The D&C seemed to give me the most control over the situation – I had already lost the pregnancy, I didn’t want to ruin our planned vacation, too.

I signed the consent forms, and my doctor checked with the hospital to see if they had an open operating room for Friday. They were able to schedule it for 7am the next morning. Less than 24 hours between diagnosis and saying goodbye. My doctor gave me a copy of one of the ultrasound images to keep before I left.

Aaron couldn’t be with me for the visit, and I couldn’t bring myself to call and deliver the news via the phone. This really needed to be shared in person. It was a terribly lonely 30 minutes as the weight of this situation sat entirely on me.

It was during the drive home when it really hit me. I continued to remind myself of the facts I’ve known for a long time: if a baby stops growing in the first trimester, it’s usually due to a chromosome problem causing big developmental issues, and if that’s the case it’s for the best for the pregnancy to miscarry. But I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened just a few days before. The baby had stopped developing just a few days before my appointment – did I somehow cause this to happen by something I did on that day? Did I not want this pregnancy enough? Logic and emotion fought back and forth in my mind.

And yet…despite my insistence many years before this that if I ever had a miscarriage I wouldn’t get that upset about it because I knew it was nature’s way of doing a quality check, I learned that hormones and emotions can do a fine job at overpowering logic and reason in this situation. (Even though I did feel that way before, I never questioned anyone else’s grieving process – this was solely holding myself to that standard.) The first tears presented themselves without warning.

Delivering the news to Aaron was hard. Even though I knew this was something I had no control over, I still felt a heavy guilt like it was somehow my fault. Aaron’s response seemed to match my own; at first, he received the news with little emotion. Later that day the full emotional weight would sink in.

That evening we arranged for my mom to come to our house super early the next morning to get the kids ready for school while we were at the hospital. She was sad for us, and willing to do whatever needed to help us out. We also had to decide if we told the kids or not. They were going to ask why we wouldn’t be home in the morning.

Aaron felt it was important to be honest with them, so that evening before bed we shared everything with them. Mira’s eyes lit up when we told them that I was pregnant, cutting us off to say, “We’re going to have a little brother or sister? YAY!” It was so hard to immediately destroy her excitement with the “but…” They were disappointed, but more concerned that I had to go to the hospital. I reassured them that I would be fine and that it was a simple procedure. We tried to focus on the positives – like the fact that I’d now be able to ride all of the rides with them at Disney.

I barely slept that night. I cried off and on, wondering how so much could change in such a short amount of time. I was sad, but I was also angry that this happened after I began planning for and looking forward to the new baby. It felt like a cruel tease.

My mom arrived at 4:15am, and we left for the hospital at 4:30am on Friday morning. Admissions didn’t take long at all, and the nurses and staff were very understanding and kind as they got me ready for the D&C. Aaron was with me until about 45 minutes before surgery time, when we said goodbye and they took me to pre-op.

My doctor had told me the procedure could be done under general anesthesia or with sedation. I didn’t want the grogginess and sore throat that comes with general anesthesia, and I made my preferences known to the anesthesia team. Even though general anesthesia is easier for them, they realized how much it mattered to me and were willing to do it. Since you can still move around with sedation (you just don’t remember it), I agreed with them that if there were any concerns during the procedure, they would be allowed to switch to general anesthesia.

When my doctor visited me in pre-op, I was trying so hard to not be weepy, but the tears refused to stop. She squeezed my hand and, after a few words of reassurance, went back to discussing the procedure itself. That was actually helpful for me – I could push aside the sadness and let my nurse brain take over.

They were then ready for me. I was given a dose of versed to get me ready. Versed is an amazing drug – it’s an anti-anxiety medication that relaxes you before surgery, and it also produces amnesia while in your system. I remember transferring to the operating room table, and I remember them asking me to move my legs into a certain position…and then I remember nothing else until I was being wheeled up to my recovery room, fully alert and awake. I’m sure I was still be awake for part of that time, because they would have told me they were giving me the propofol to let me sleep, but I have no memory of any of it.

I was moved into a recovery chair, covered in blankets, and offered food and drink. Aaron arrived about ten minutes later – I was so glad to have him with me. I didn’t know what to expect, and I was happily surprised that I wasn’t in any pain, and only had mild cramping.

The tears were gone for the moment, replaced by a hollow, empty feeling. I arrived to the hospital that morning still pregnant, and left a few hours later not pregnant.

I had told Aaron before the surgery that if he wanted to share what had happened on Facebook, I wouldn’t object. This was a lot to bear on our own, and if sharing would help to shoulder the grief, I wanted him to do it. As I sat in recovery, he shared some of the messages he had received for us. I’ve never claimed to be all that private of a person (obviously), so while I waited to go home, I wrote a short update for Facebook as well.

I’m surprised how many friends have had similar experiences losing a pregnancy (or more than one, in some cases), and how many of those friends have never shared the details of it in public. I’ve never understood the social norm found in some areas that a miscarriage should be kept quiet, sharing what happened with as few as possible, and acting as if the pregnancy never happened at all. I suppose there’s an argument to be made for not making others uncomfortable by expecting some form of comfort from them, but I have no expectations from friends and family. We all handle uncomfortable situations differently. I wouldn’t hold it against a friend for saying nothing, just as I also wouldn’t judge someone for an enormous outpouring of support. We’re all different.

Now that I’m in the middle of it myself, I can’t imagine keeping all of this in. I never expected that losing a baby at only 9 weeks – a baby that we weren’t even all that excited about in the beginning – could cause such grief, and I’m not that strong to hold all of these feelings inside of me. So…I write it out. For me, mostly, but if it benefits anyone else, that’s okay, too.

There are questions to be answered at a later date. We didn’t expect this pregnancy, so the big question is if we’d ever consider a third child again. We don’t know at this point, and we’re in no state to make that kind of a decision for now. Perhaps in a month or two we’ll give it some thought.

I’m still running the runDisney Enchanted 10k this Saturday, running my furthest distance yet. I’m probably not as ready as I should be, but I need this race more than ever now. I was going to announce the pregnancy at the end of the race, but with this loss I feel like I must cross that finish line, just to have one win on my side. I only hope I can find some ultra-waterproof mascara so I won’t look like a mess when the tears inevitably flow at the end of the race.

This post ended up longer than I expected. If you read this far, you deserve a medal. To sum up: I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. Time heals many things.

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