Posted by Stitchy McYarnpants On June - 15 - 2005   ShareThis




(TMI = Too Much Information)

So, as many of you have apparently noticed, I’ve been really slacking off in the blogging department lately. And I must say, I’m flattered so many of you thought I had catapulted right off the planet. I would love to see the missing persons report for Stitchy McYarnpants. If such a thing were to be required, please don’t settle for my last know photo, take some time and pick something where I look cute and thin and happy. Like this. Or this. C’mon, I’d do it for you. Do not, under any circumstances, allow my brother to make authorities use his favorite photo of me. The one where my eyes are rolling back into my head and there are strings of saucy spaghetti dangling out of my mouth. And no, you will get not link to that little gem.

Anyway, I’m going to do my best to explain why I’ve been flying under the radar. It’s not as though I feel I owe anyone an explanation (or a long list of excuses), but some things just sort of ask to be written about. Have blog, will journal. Know what I mean? I usually keep my personal life pretty personal. That’s mainly because my personal life is largely uninteresting. And while not as fascinating as being involved in a freaky, Oprah-couch-stomping, ass-of-oneself-making, squirmy love-fest with Tom Cruise, or wrestling a bunch of lions with just my bare hands and some Cambodian midgets, the past couple of months have been vaguely interesting.

See, it all started when Jon knocked me up sometime in April. After peeing on many a stick (can I say that I love peeing on those home pregnancy test sticks? It’s like I’m my own little chemistry set!), I had the blood test and yada yada, I was good and pregnant. Normally, this would either make someone very happy or very sad. All I could think was “Terrific, here we go again.” I guess my initial reaction was one of mild annoyance. This was my third pregnancy since last Christmas. The first two disappeared as quickly and stealthily as they’d shown up. Ninja pregnancies. They never implanted and were considered “chemical pregnancies” because they could only be detected chemically. By peeing on things. It turns about that approximately 50% of first pregnancies end this way, and most people don’t even realize they were ever pregnant. But if you’re trying to conceive, and you have the penchant for peeing on sticks, and you just can’t wait for anything ever, you can find out before your period is even due! Bad idea!

This time around, the little bugger stuck and Jon and I were pleased as punch, but we remained cautiously optimistic. Throughout the month of May, I felt like crap, just like a woman in my delicate condition should. Tired and nauseous and cranky with headaches and boobaches. Oprah made me weepy, Dr. Phil filled me with more rage than usual. It was the whole kit and caboodle. It was delightfully awful. The due date was to be January 8th, so obviously a lot of knitting would be required. This poor kid was going to be covered in piles of superwash wool. But I felt too crappy to even knit. Now THAT’S crappy.

We were all set to tell the parental units on Father’s Day. We were even allowing ourselves to get a little excited. Just a little.

Unfortnately, I discovered last week that I had a miscarriage. A missed miscarriage, to be exact. That means it stopped growing, there is no heartbeat, but the tissue is still hanging around in there and I’m still having mild symptoms. Neat! I was even starting to show a little. Part of what I was showing was a lack of self control, I’ll admit it. Bagel Bites, as it turns out, are the perfect food. I couldn’t help myself, I’m not made of stone! But it wasn’t all snack related, I was looking like I had the beginnings of a little bun in the oven. Well, as it turns out, my oven is stuffed full of fibroids (benign lumps of tissue, pretty common with women in their 30’s). Enough that they were actually pooching out! So I wasn’t eating for two, I was eating for 12. Or however many of them there are. The ultrasound technician stopped trying to count them. She seemed really impressed with my fibroid-making abilities. We all have our talents, people.

As it turns out, the first two pregnancies probably tried to implant, but ran headlong into a lumpy mass and got nowhere. This one managed to implant, but with all the extra delicious hormones, the fibies grew lightening quick, decreasing the blood supply to the lining of the uterus. Of course, this is all speculation, but it seems perfectly reasonable. All in all, I’m just not a very hospitable environment. In fact, I’d say I’m downright hostile in there. Well, not totally, I mean, the fibies are flourishing. But the joke’s on them. I’m not putting one cent towards their college tuition.

So I’m giving it another week for the tissue to pass on it’s own, because frankly, the fewer procedures (i.e. sharp, pokey things) I have in my nethers, the better. If it doesn’t do it’s own thing, I’ll have a D&C next week. Once this is all cleared up, I have to get the fibroids removed (more sharp, pokey things). That should be happening round about August. And in my own silly fashion, I’ve gone and anthropomorphized them already. I have a bad habit of doing that. Have you seen that awful Mentos commercial with the baby chicks tweeting in unison for a refreshing mint? Yeah, well, in my mind, that’s what they look like. All the fibroids are nestled together, chirping incessantly, forcing me to keep eating Bagel Bites. On the plus side, they like Sangria, too.

So, in some way, I feel betrayed by my body. Especially the pooching out part. Can you stand it?! Mother nature is a tricky bitch sometimes. But I know it’s all fairly common and easily (albeit unpleasantly) remedied. I felt a lot better after talking to the doctor because it all seems so logical. If my arm were to fall off, I’d be fine as long as someone had a solid medical explanation for it. And I feel confident in my ability to get pregnant seeing as how I’ve done it three times since December. Jon has good aim and determined boys. So I just need to get through the next couple of months of endless appointments and pokey things, and then we can get back to trying. That’s the fun part.

Jon and I really are feeling ok about the whole thing, we have amazing friends and family around us to lend support. Everyone who knows has been kind and respectful. We’re not dramatic people and these situations are often so awkward, but it’s such a common occurrence that to hush it up seems like ignoring an elephant in the room. It’s just one of those crazy things that happens sometimes. Whaddaya gonna do? And Charlene, I must say, is the uber friend. She has gone with me to most of my appointments, even the ultrasounds. She actually seemed to enjoy visiting the moonscape that is the inside of my uterus. AND, she blew her diet to go out for ice cream with me after the last appointment (and the one before that). That goes above and beyond a ride to the airport, and I wholly appreciate it.

All in all, when everything gets weighed out, I’m still a very lucky girl.

109 Responses

  1. Vanessa says:

    So sorry to hear it’s been a turbulent couple of months for you. I can’t even imagine. You’re in my thoughts! 😀

  2. roz says:

    I’m so sorry to hear about your miscarriage. I had a few and they never got easier. But I also have a couple of kids now & a nice neat tubal ligation. Take heart & take care of yourself.

    p.s. my fibroids liked chocolate ice cream.

  3. SF Knitter says:

    Hrm, I’m the right age, maybe that explains my sudden affinity for Coffee Heath Bar Crunch.

    Anyhow, I’m rooting for you! And so are your many many fans.

  4. Kate says:

    Two of my friends are currently recovering from surgery to remove fibroids. It must be going around, like the flu.

    On a more serious note, as much as you seem to be making light of the situation, know that there are all sorts of random bloggers and regular readers out there who care for you and are rooting for you. I’m sure I sound silly when I say this, but I am a PhD student that studies women’s reproductive physiology — if you ever want to chat or learn more, I can point you towards some helpful resources. Just email me at k8andcat at yahoo dot com.

    Love, hugs, and bagel bites,

  5. June says:

    Wow. I don’t know what to say, other than hooray that you now know what is going on, can take care of the fibroids, and hopefully can go on to have a healthy baby. Take care of yourself, and don’t give up!

  6. Leisel says:

    I’m sorry to hear about your miscarriage. It’s so heartbreaking. I’m thinking of you.

  7. Amy Boogie says:

    I’m sorry to hear about the miscarriage and all the troubles. I’m glad you know a bit of what’s going on and hopefully you’ll have a healthy one soon. Bagel bites are kick ass.

  8. With an attitude like yours you can get through anything. Can you bottle it, I want some.
    Thinking of you,

  9. Anonymous says:

    Sorry for the outcome, Stitchy. Glad to see you have a reasonable attitude toward it. Hoping for success in the future.

  10. Leslie - knitting therapist says:

    Hi Stitchy, I can commiserate on the fibroids front. I had 3, each the size of a large mango. They liked french fries with extra gravy and lots of salt. Anyway, I was diagnosed at 27 and having them out at 33 was the best thing I ever did – I can guarantee you won’t regret it, but I still call it “losing 14 lbs. the hard way”. Go for it, you won’t believe how much better you’ll feel. No pressure, no pooching, no peeing every 20 minutes, it’s heaven. If you’re really lucky, they’ll do it through laproscopy and you’ll be up in no time. Best of luck to you and future babes.

  11. Yarnpants. All I have to say is – thank goodness for good aim. I mean really, where would we all be without it?! Wiping up a whole lot.


    I’m routing for the little mento chicks to move on out of your cute little bod and for little yarnpants to move on in.

    Go team!

  12. Snooze says:

    Darling girl, my heart hurts for you. I went through the very same thing (3 miscarriages including one just months after my marriage.) My insides were a huge mass of mess. Doctors wanted to remove the whole thing. I was horrified at losing my last chance for a child. I declined.

    When I conceived my daughter, I was put to bed for 26 weeks (left grad school and a good job…)Turns out she never actually moved head-down. When they delivered her c/sec, the doc told me that my womb was totally misshaped due to huge cysts, abdominal adhesions and fibroids all over my reproductive organs (including one which he indicated was almost as large as the baby’s head.)

    Your experience was not nearly as easy and breezy as you have words to make it seem…so be kind to yourself. And know that there are lots of us out here who are praying for a wonderful, healthy and 7#10oz outcome to the whole thing…


  13. Kate says:

    As everyone else has said I too am sorry for the loss but your attitude towards it is unreal and your positiveness (yeah. that isn’t a word) about things is contagious.
    Best of luck in the future. We are all rooting for you!

  14. Lynette says:

    sweetie, i’m sorry you went through this. you’re handling it very well. i have little aliens in my body also. bastards! anyway, i haven’t decided to do anything about it yet bcuz i don’t want to be incapacitated for any length of time.

    p.s. i also have a pooch :(

  15. Amy says:

    Stitchy, hang in there. You have a great attitude, especially all you’ve been through so far this year. But everything sounds very optimistic–I’m crossing my fingers for you!

  16. Katy says:

    I’m sorry for your losses, but I’m glad that they have figured out what’s wrong. I hope you sail through the surgery and that you have good news to share in the new year!

  17. ~Cathy~ says:

    So sorry to hear about your recent miscarriage. I’ve had one myself, that we discovered around 11-12 weeks. I’m glad you found out what might be the culprit. Those dang fibroids! I’ll be sending lots of good wishes in the next few months…. and I’ll definitely be back to check up on ya! I’m a new blogger myself and found your site through someone’s blogroll. :)

  18. Fiber says:

    What a kickass attitude, I love it.
    I’m very sorry to hear about your recent miscarriage, but hey, with Bagel Bites, you can get through anything. Well, that and a gin martini.

  19. Judy says:

    I’m sorry to hear about your miscarriages, too. I had two before my children were born, and it’s never easy. Good luck with the fibroid surgery, and then go for it!

  20. Christina says:


    But you can’t go wrong with Bagel Bites!

  21. Daphne says:

    Well my dear, I am fascinated beyond belief at all these comments. I for one don’t even know you and am calling you “dear.” I like babies, I like science; I think the two together will prevail! Oh, not to mention ice cream. I really like ice cream.

  22. Nik says:

    I’m sorry that you’re going through this. I suffer from fibroids myself. I had one that had my uterus as large as if I were 5 months pregnant. I was told that if I wanted to get pregnant that the thing to do was to have them removed, allow time to heal, then get pregnant before the fibroids had the chance to grow back. I hate that they can compete with the baby for space in there. Which is something I’m always afraid of for the time when I get pregnant.

    There’s a woman who works in the lab around the corner from mine who does research on fibroids. and she’s given me some good information about fibroid removal options. Let me know if you’re interested.

  23. Bliss says:

    Well that really sucks! :( Be kind to yourself as you move through this time. I’m sorry for your loss. May the coming procedures be as few as possible, and your recovery swift.

    Incidentally, my fybroids like diet Sunkist and Little Debbie cakes. My pooch has crossed the equator into ponchville.

  24. Anonymous says:

    sorry to hear about all the ups and downs that you have been experiencing ‘behind the scenes’.

    Hope you and Jon have an easier few months ahead of you!


  25. Rebekah says:

    So sorry for your difficulties, at least know you have a reason. Having a reason always helps me sorty things out.

    Sorry about your upcoming procedures, I’ve now had over 10 tumors removed from my boobs (I was gonna say chest, but hey lets just call them as they are), so I understand the fear of pointy things. HOpe all goes well.

  26. Lee Ann says:

    Here’s hoping for good aim for everyone involved…and I’m glad you’ve got a great group of people around you to help you get through it. If you don’t laugh, you cry, and laughing’s way more fun.

    I had the baby-washes-out-with-the-bathwater problem. Wicked fun…NOT. At least in your situation they have a good idea of what’s causing the problem and how to treat it.

    Good luck, and hang in there…

  27. janine says:

    I’m sorry for your loss and in awe of your positive attitude. I will think positive thoughts your way

  28. Miriam says:

    *hug* That’s all I can think to do or say. *huuuuuuuuug*

  29. Knitzilla says:

    Stitchy, we’ve missed you, but what a lot you’ve been going through. Thanks for sharing, ’cause we are all praying for a swift demise of the fibroid farm. Hang in there!

  30. Beth says:

    Just wanted to send you my best wishes that you’ll get through these next few months without too much more turmoil or suffering. I hope good things come your way soon!

  31. Jennifer says:

    Hi Stitchy, I just wanted to add my best wishes to those of the wonderful people who have already posted. Good luck with the Pokey things

  32. Cheryl says:

    I’m so sorry to hear about your’s one of those things no one understands unless they’ve been there…ignore the stupid stuff people say…
    Always here,

  33. Diana says:

    Stitchy, I am so sorry to read about your loss. I also had a uterus chock-full of fibroids before meeting with sharp pokey things. Best of luck for a speedy recovery and a bright future!

  34. stephanie says:

    I’m very sorry for your losses. I think it’s wonderful that you are able to retain your sense of humor. I’ve been pg 7x and have 2 boys; the worst part after the 2nd loss was “untelling.” Finding out the cause and having good friends makes a huge difference in how we cope with it. You have wonderful friends and I’m thankful they are there for you.

  35. Cara says:

    I am so, so sorry. Having struggled with getting pregnant myself all I can say is that it all just sucks. That is until it works out.

    Hope the sharp pointy things do what they’re supposed to and make things nice and cozy and inviting.

  36. Alison says:

    You are amazing Stitchy, and having BTDT, having the attitude you do will get you anything you want (however you end up having to go about it, IYKWIM)!! It is so great to see someone so trusting in their body, and accepting of the process. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t all feel like c**p sometimes, but it does make the process a *little* bit easier. Sending you hugs from across the wet stuff.
    Alison in Australia

  37. Down here in the south, I have had patients call them (no joke), “Fibers of the Universe” and “Fireballs of the Eucharist.” Hopefully that will give you a little something to chuckle about as you go through this. As usual, your sense of humor is amazing (and that, girlfriend, is why you have made it to my sidebar, “Blog Entries that make me LOL”). Thinking of you, with everyone else.

  38. Deb says:

    I’m sorry to hear about this disappointing news, but am rooting for you! When the time is right, it’ll be right!

  39. Emily says:

    Stitchy, your attitude is truly inspiring. I am praying for the pitter patter of little McYarnpants feet in the near future.

  40. Dharma says:

    Miscarriages are very hard and I’m sorry you’re going through this. Allow yourself plenty of time and space to grieve and I wish you all the best.

  41. Anonymous says:

    So sorry to hear this, Stitchy. Wishing you the best. And many hugs too.

    Knit Once, Purl Forever

  42. Agnes says:

    Sorry to hear about what happened. But you and Jon are certainly taking it very well … and as you said, you have a whole bunch of family and friends around for support. Sometimes we can just take life as it comes.

  43. Hilari says:

    Golly, Stitch – I’m so sorry you’ve been through all the crap the last few months. I’ve heard that after you have fibroids removed you are the QE2 of uteruses….uteri(?)… because all the crap is cleared out. So coupled with the lap of luxury, so to speak, and Mr McYarnpants’ good track record, I’m hoping there will be a wee Yarnpants in your future!

  44. Gina says:

    I’m so sorry for your struggles, but I am glad to see you tackle this with humor. Thank goodness you have such supportive family and friends.

  45. K says:

    So very sorry to hear of your loss. Fertility issues suck ass. Best way to handle them is a good hug, a stiff drink and some ill placed humor. Hell, it works for me!
    I hope you heal well, the fibroid removal is uneventful, and you’re knocked up again before you know it…and nine months later you have a well dressed babe at your breast.
    Much love, k

  46. AmyP says:

    There’s not much I can say, because this has never happened to me, but I wanted you to know that I was thinking of you.

  47. Marlena says:

    I’m sorry to hear about your tough times. It makes me feel bad for cursing you for depriving me of your witty blogging. (Totally kidding! I would never curse you!)

    Here’s to blue skies ahead!

  48. Anonymous says:

    I’m so sorry about the bad news. We had 2 miscarriages, too, cause still not definitive. Wishing you all the best for the fibroid surgery, a speedy recovery, and lots of fun trying again!

  49. Jackie says:

    You are one impressive lady – I really admire the way you’re handling this.

    Hang in there. :)


  50. Anonymous says:

    Wow, I am sorry to hear the tough time you have been having. Kick those fibies to the curb and don’t look back. Your attitude is remarkable, hang in there Stitchy. Oh yeah, BTW..I think the first pic is best for the missing persons report. 😉


  51. Micky says:

    Glad you are ok. Hope everything goes well throughout. And you are right, trying is the fun part.

  52. ladybotx2b4 says:

    So sorry to hear you have been through such tough times. You have a great attitude and will be a fantastic mother.
    Have fun trying!

  53. Janis says:

    Hey miss yarnpants,
    hope all this stuff passes quickly and you are back to eating bagle bites soon!

  54. Claire says:

    I came over here on the reccomendation of another blogger, and just wanted to say, I’m so sorry this happened…and I sincerly hope you have as few sharp, pokey things in your nethers as possible!!

  55. Celia says:

    I was told I didn’t provide a very hospitable environment for implantation and went through the sharp, pokey things phase. And now, I have adult children and my nest is empty. I wish for you the joys of motherhood and the (eventual)ache of the empty nest. Hang in there and visualize a receptive body.

  56. Sending positive thoughts your way.

  57. IndigoMuse says:

    Hi Stitchy,

    I’ve been there several times myself and will send good vibes, prayers and karma your way. I can say that after several tries (with fibroids too), I was finally lucky to have a pretty wild and wacky second child. Your time will come. Be ready to receive it with open arms.


  58. su says:

    Oh Stitchy, you crack me up. What a lucky child you will have. Cyber hugs to you and yours. su

  59. Kathy says:

    Hey Stitchy;

    Hang in there. Sending you good wishes. You don’t even have to be funny if you don’t want to (but I dang sure miss it!)


  60. Having had my own battles with infertility and pokey things, I can commisserate with you. It is a horrible emotional rollercoaster ride that I wouldn’t wish on anyone. While endometriosis and cysts were my problems, I have happy and healthy twins. I hope that your rollercoaster ride ends very soon as you’ll make a fabulous mom.

  61. crystal says:

    Ugh. That sucks. Three times over. You’ve got an amazing attitude about it though. You know what they say – Fourth time’s a charm. Good luck.

  62. maryse says:

    hey girlie,
    i’m so very sorry about what you’ve been going through. but once they’ve cleaned your pipes, you’ll be good to go!

    and a friend of mine, had a fibroid the size of a grapefruit that she named demetri.

  63. So sorry to hear about your troubles. Take care and keep up the positive attitude.

  64. Christie says:

    You are a champ. Your PMA [postive mental attitude] is amazing and thank you for sharing…I’ll hope that you have a minimal amount of pokey things.

  65. Rachel says:

    Thoughts are with you. Yeah, what they said. Hope it all gets better. We’re rooting for you.

  66. Sarah says:

    Sorry to hear your news…

    But a bit of knowledge can be a powerful thing – it must be a relief to finally know what’s what in there, even if it doesn’t make it any easier.

    Best wishes for a good summer, happy August, and productive September! (Or October, depending on aim…)

  67. stephanie says:

    I’m sorry for your loss. I know there’s something really witty and reassuring to say here, but I’ll be damned if I know what it is, so I’ll just say, damn. That sucks, I’m proud of you, and I’m glad you and your dear one are kind to each other.

    (Ps. I think my fibroids liked yarn)

  68. Christine says:

    I am sorry for your losses. I don’t know about fibroids but I do know about miscarriages. I now have 5 children. There is always hope. I will do the baby booga dance for you.

  69. Heather says:

    Just wanted to send you a virtual {{{hug}}} and good energy your way. Hope the next few months clears the pathway to a mini-mcyarnpants.

  70. Cari says:

    I’m just delurking to say that I’m very sorry for your loss and I am rooting for you!

  71. benedetta says:

    tough couple of months you’ve had! so glad you sound alright after all.
    take care, have a good summer and you’ll be all set for a summer baby in 2006!

  72. Sami says:

    Wow– you’ve been through a lot.
    I’m sorry for your losses and hope your uterus prepares for motherhood with minimal sharp-pokey-thingy involvement.

    You’re a trooper for having such a positive attitude and courage to share your troubles with us.

  73. martha says:

    yeah, what they said. pointy-pokes ain’t fun, but the little squirt who subsequently will take over your life for the next 20 years will be worth it.

  74. Dani says:

    I’m glad to hear that you are keeping your sense of humor through this whole thing. Don’t try to be too strong, though; God gave you friends to lean on in times like this.

  75. Lisa says:

    Just wanted to say been there, done that and you too can have the t-shirt. If you need anyone’s brain to pick about the surgery, recovery, etc. feel free to email me. I did a ton of reading and would be happy to share.

  76. Mary Beth says:

    So sorry to hear about the miscarriages. I’ve got a mess o’ fibroids myself–they aren’t fun! But I hope the doctors evict them without trouble and you get yourself the bambino you want.

  77. Lisa says:

    My thoughts are with you. I’m also a member of the fibroid club, here’s hoping yours are removed as easily and painlessly as possible.

  78. Anonymous says:

    So the helper monkey was just a joke? Gee, and I thought you meant it. Really.
    We completely exhausted modern medicine’s offering when the Boy came along. It turns out his timing as far as the collective shit meter was concerned was absolutely perfect, and had he come any sooner, it would have been really hard on his older sibs and the step family dynamic. Go figure, the kid’s a born diplomat.
    I wish you luck and patience and ther best of modern medicine, and what some folks call miracles.

    julia fc

  79. claudia says:

    I’ve got nothing really to offer but my very best wishes.

  80. Liz says:

    My sympathies. I had my first miscarriage right about the time my period was due and my second at 12 weeks. I’ve got a three-year-old now though so it worked out in the end. Fibroids are not my friend either. My husband and I had a similar attitude towards yours. Yes, it was hard, but the right attitude can help.

  81. Katie says:

    I’m sorry to hear about your miscarriage and fibroids…I went through a missed m/c also, and it was so hard. But I do have two kiddos now, so there’s always the potential for things to look up. I hope they do for you soon!

  82. Ro says:

    I’m so sorry about the miscarriage. I had two before I had my daughter, I took them very hard (understatement).

    After the second one, my body kept growing the lining for the baby even though it wasn’t there anymore and I ended up with a second D&C and lots of pokey things! That was so wrong! My body even thought it was still pregnant.

    I hope that you can get the fibros taken care of and things will be much easier after that… I ended up needing hormone injections…cerclage surgery…nine months bedrest…


  83. Becky says:

    hey there~! is the
    SIL who is eargerly awaiting a phone call!! I cannot even begin to tell you how sorry I am to hear all that is going on withmy littel bro and you! and I hate knowing that I understand!!! AS Ernie’s grandmother would tell me, it is the tryng that is the fun part!!! and while you are trying I have 3 of your neices and 1 nephew you can borrow to practice on!!!!

    and excuse any and all typos..o cate laying over my shourlders, she thinks she is my mink stole…and another is doing figure 8’s around my legs!!!!

  84. Elizabeth says:

    I had a miscarriage like that, at 12 weeks. A little spotting and then an ultrasound showed a blighted ovum. I kept telling my doctor that I had not yet passed the tissue, but he kept saying I probably had. 6 weeks later, I started gushing blood and did a few rounds of that, followed by a D & C. That doctor said there was necrotic tissue: charming.

    It was devastating to lose that pregnancy. I never realized how common miscarriage is.

    I’m so sorry for your loss! You are brave to post about it on your blog. Good luck with your follow up care!

  85. Maus says:

    Gosh gal, you are one wonderful cookie! I don’t think I have EVER seen anybody talk or write about this in such a determined and un_hurt un_hormnoned fashion as you. Right on! Hope all goes well with you either way you get reformated (for complete loss of a different word..) –

  86. Anonymous says:


    And keep your wonderful sense of humor!

    There are a lot of us out in the world who have dealt with miscarriages or infertility, and we all understand how you feel. As for you, I bet once those little sangria-loving boogers get lost, you’ll be a mom in no time.

    Renee in CO

  87. Anonymous says:

    I’m so sorry. I did 20 hours labor on my first and worst miscarriage. I also had healthy children later–and a far deeper appreciation of how lucky I was to have them than if that hadn’t happened. If that helps any. I hope.

  88. Rabbitch says:

    I’m so sorry for your loss. I lost my second pregnancy at 11 weeks. Alas, there was no baby, just an egg that declined to be implanted and a lovely big placenta that I got to pass with a day or so of back labor. The doc lied and said it would “break up and pass naturally”. I had one child already but had never been in labor so I had no clue and thought I was having back spasms. Docs are so nice.

    We are trying for another baby but there is a suspicion of fibroids, so I may be joining you in the pointy things forum.

    I wish you all the best and if you want to talk you have my email.

  89. Jahunta says:

    I’m so sorry to hear about your turbulent last few months. I just started following your blog a few weeks ago. I wish you all the best.

  90. Amy says:

    I’m sending you lots of happy uterus vibes! Take care of yourself. -Amy

  91. natasha says:

    geeez!!! you may be the most loved person of all time!!! i don’t know about your exact issue, although i wonder if it has happened to me. i have very similar uterine issues, and have since i was pretty young. it sucks! they act like you should push through it, but how can you when you feel like you will vomit/crap/cry/can’t stand or stand up straight? it sucks the joy right out of you. i think that if you want to get pregnant after all of this is cleared up, you will, and if you want it to happen, it will work. i have psychic moments, and this is one. you are incredible, not many people get 92…er, 93 comments on their bloggys!!
    smoochies, natasha

  92. Amie says:

    You’re in my prayers!

    I laughed at your comment on my blog, since my brother has spent all day saying “what time is it tomorrow” and my surgery is Friday, too. So basically it’s the same time tomorrow as your surgery is.

    You’ll get through – we both will.

  93. Kathleen says:

    I am so sorry for your loss. I have fibroids too and was told it was unlikely I would conceive without surgery. I did, he’s 5. You will get this sorted out. Hang in there.

  94. Anonymous says:

    I’m so sorry for your losses. I had a huge fibroid when I was 16. I actually got pregnant and it caused some problems and eventually a miscarriage (oops! I was young!). I had a lapy and myomectomy when it got to be about as big as a five-six month grown fetus. Once I got it removed they told me I’d never have kids. Proved them wrong! I got pregnant (oops!) three weeks later and I now have three kids! So there is hope! Hang in there and make sure that you get a good doctor!

  95. Anonymous says:

    Crap. And condolences. Just threaten to name those fibroids after the Brady kids and see how they like it.

    Best wishes,

  96. PaMdora says:

    Hi Stichy, So sorry to read about the nasty stuff you’ve been going through. I feel for you because although I don’t know anything about the fibroids, I’ve had four miscarriages in the last four years. I’m a lot older than you though, so I’m about to give up on the kid thing. I’m glad you’re trying this younger and wiser than me! Take care and be well!

  97. Amie says:

    Wanted you to know when my hospital chaplain came in to pray with me, I whispered your name the entire time, so you got a little extra God-boost from Baltimore.

    Hope you’re home and feeling better. I’m gonna take another percoset and head back to sleep!

  98. carrie says:

    i can’t imagine the emotional roller coaster you’ve been on, but your post shows so much grace. thanks for your honesty and indomitable sense of humor.

  99. Sedie says:

    Good luck with everything! I’ve had a fibroid related miscarriage and I belive I’ve gotten pregnant a few times, but my biggest fibroid was the size of an orange. I just had all the fibroids removed in October of last year, now we are working on baby.

    I’ll be sending grand thoughts your way.

  100. Colleen says:

    After 101 comments, I don’t think there’s much else I can say that hasn’t already been said but – I’ve miscarried before and it sucks. And, frankly, medical procedures suck too. I’m glad you’ve got such a good friend and supportive Jon.

    Take care, hon.

  101. Beth says:

    Youd on’t know me but I feel like I know you. I’m not a big one for leaving comments but I miss you and thought I’d let you know.
    Hope you are feeling better and the pokey things are now leaving you alone.

  102. Anonymous says:

    Hey, so sorry to hear about all this. I hope you’re feeling better.
    As far as the fibroid surgery, I had it done in November. It was done through the stomach, and it wasn’t fun, but wasn’t awful either. Good luck.
    BTW, you are one of the best writers out there, on any subject. No kidding.

  103. Lynne says:

    Hey, Stitchy, hope you are OK, well as OK as you can be in this situation, cos we haven’t heard from you for a while. Fibroids are awful common – more women have them than don’t, particularly after 30-35….

  104. kristen says:

    Long-time lurker and first-time poster … I feel a little superfluous adding in at this point, but just thought I would tell you how much it meant to me to read your entry the other day because I just m/c’d about the same time a couple weeks ago. Even though I have heard all the same statistics, it can seem like no one else is going through it when you are in the middle of it. So thanks and I hope things are starting to look up for you!

  105. Katie says:

    Sorry to hear things aren’t going as planned, but at least you get lots more practice trying to get preggers. Best of Luck!

  106. vibe says:

    It’s so wierd. SOOO many people have miscarriages, and no one ever talks about them. I even think there are MORE miscarriages than sucessful pregnancies!!! Sometimes it seems that way, anyway. Having a healthy baby is TRULY a miracle. With the fabulous attitude YOU have though, I’m sure everything will work out! Hold on to that, it’s GOLD!

  107. While you were contending with pee-sticks and fibroids, I was being diagnosed, cut, pasted and intoxified due to breast cancer. Having your body do things that you know are possible, but that you didn’t want to have to deal with isn’t any fun, is it? For what it’s worth, now that they know there are fibroids there… maybe the pokey procedures will clear the way for a perfect little McYarnPants… if that’s what you want. My mother told me (in the way that only she could) that “the whole time ‘we’ were pregnant we didn’t know if we’d get you or a tumor…..” I don’t recommend telling it quite that way (because she usually told me that when I’d been obnoxious, or just childlike, and it sounded like she’d have preferred the tumor…) anyway.. I’m glad you are back and that I checked up on you. Best wishes.

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