All Dogs Go to Heaven

When I was a kid I wanted a chocolate lab so bad I couldn't stand it.  My parents wouldn't let me have one because they knew I'd never take care of it.  Well, when I was 17, right before Christmas, I got in the shower and when I got out there was the cutest black lab puppy sitting in a box in my room. (imagine a really cute picture of a black lab puppy)  I was smitten from the get go.  My aunt got her for me and my mom was less than thrilled.  I'm pretty sure I spent all my Christmas money that year on Gracie.  I was 17 and had no idea what I was getting myself into.  I don't remember much about her as a puppy.  I think she slept in a crate in my room.  I don't know what she did while I was at school.  I do know that she was always waiting on me when I got home from school.  In fact, when she was about 5 months old, she was so excited for us to get home from school she came barreling down the driveway at the same time as I was turning to go up the driveway and we collided.  I panicked.  She ran off wimpering.  I was hysterical.  I tried to call my mom on my cellphone from the driveway and luckily my little brother (who was around 11 at the time and had the most level head and handled the whole situation) was coming in the back door at the same time I called so my mom knew we were ok.  We took her to the vet.  Her leg was broken but because it was so close to her growth plate we had to see a specialist.  You can imagine how expensive that was.  She had a cast on her leg and I'd have to wrap a grocery sack around it every time I took her out. 

 

(I'm going to have to dig out some cute puppy pictures to add here)

 

My first year of college she had to stay home with my parents because I lived in the dorm.  I missed her.  She was always so happy to see me when I came home.

She came to live with me my sophomore year when I lived in a house.  The first tailgate party we hosted happened to fall around my aunt's birthday.  Gracie was never to be left in the house loose alone.  Well everyone got a ticket to the game last minute and the last person out left Gracie in the house.  When I got back there was cake and icing everywhere.  She had gotten the birthday cake off the table and had her own little party.  She was so bad.  She would get food off the counter all the time.  Once she got chicken fingers out of the toaster oven while they were cooking.  That's talent. 

She loved the lake.  She would swim out and try to get on your float with you.  Most people hated that.  When we would all go out to ski or tube, I never could go right in front of the house because she would swim out and chase me.  I think the lake was one of her favorite places. 

When Patrick and I got married she came with me to Morris.  Patrick already had Sam, his yellow lab and they were best buds from the beginning.  She had puppies that year too (they weren't Sam's, we don't know who the daddy was).  She was a good little mama.  She was so proud of her babies.  Last week she started moving slow.  We thought nothing of it.  She was almost 14 years old.  Well by Wednesday she wasn't eating.  Friday I had to go out in the yard and find her when I got home from work to get her in out of the rain.  She could only take 2 or 3 steps before she would fall and I'd have to pick her up again.  It was heartbreaking.  I got her in and she plopped down right in front of the door.  She was in the same place when Patrick got home 5 hours later.  We got her moved closer to her bed but she wouldn't eat or drink.  We decided we would take her to the vet Saturday morning.  When we got up Saturday morning Patrick went down to check on her and she was still in the same place we'd left her.  We got her loaded in the car and headed to the vet.  It was packed, Patrick stayed in the car with her while I went and told them we were there.  I broke down talking to the poor receptionist.  They came out to get us and we went back to the room.  The vet came in and examined her.  She said her liver was enlarged and that was probably what was causing her symptoms.  She gave us a few options.  She let us know that it could possibly be infection or something else causing her liver to struggle but most likely at her age it was probably just giving out.  She was so kind and told us she supported what ever we decided.  We decided that moving forward with treatment was not worth putting her through for maybe another week with her.  The vet was so kind and reassuring to us.  They let us hold her and say good bye.  As I was sitting there I was so mad at myself for not spending more time with her.  For not taking her to the lake again, not laying out in the yard on a blanket with her.  I was just so sad I took the time I thought we had for granted.  I know she was just a dog but that dog saw me through some of my life's biggest accomplishments.  She was there when I went to prom, graduated from high school, went off to college, moved in to the first place where I paid bills, when Patrick and I went on our first date, got engaged, when I finally graduated from college and got married.  She was there when we got home from our honeymoon and we moved in together.  She was there when we brought Barrett home and she was there for every day in between.  She was a food thief and an escape artist.  She got in the trash and was a little bit racist (which was odd since she was black).  She was the only reason I've ever had the police called on me.  She was the best bad dog I've even known and she will be greatly missed.

The Club No Mom Wants to Join

I've gone back and forth on whether or not I wanted to post this.  (I'm still not sure if I'll ever it publish. But I guess if you're reading it you know I took the plunge) We've been on a bit of a roller coaster the last few weeks.  I joined a club two weeks ago that no woman ever wants to join.  I had a miscarriage.  We are, of course, heartbroken and sad.  For 4 weeks we've been planning a life with this sweet baby.  We've been planning a new "Big Boy Room" for Barrett.  We've been planning a new nursery (even though I pretty much want it to look exactly like the original nursery).  We've talked names and double strollers.  We've talked about Barrett becoming a big brother and what it's going to be like having two kids when the holidays roll around.  For 4 weeks that sweet baby was very real.

We had not told anyone.  We were planning to tell our parents after our first appointment.  The only people that knew were my little brother and sister-in-law (and my friend Brittany, but only because I didn't drink a margarita at a mexican restaurant.)  We enjoyed it being our little secret.  I didn't want anyone worrying (which is ironic now).  Everything was going well.  I was limiting myself to one cup of coffee in the morning and no sodas.  I was taking my vitamins everyday, I always forgot with Barrett.  I remember when I first found out I was pregnant with Barrett I knew immediately he was a boy.  I just had a feeling.  I had no gut feelings this time.  Which I told Patrick was kind of odd to me since I was so sure with Barrett.  I didn't think much of it.  We were scheduled for our first appointment Tuesday, February 10th.  We were like any expectant parents excited and nervous.  That morning I started bleeding.  Not a whole lot but enough to be a concern.  I wasn't having any pain so I tried to tell myself that everything was fine.  

We got to the doctors office.  My appointment wasn't until the afternoon.  They immediately sent us over for an ultrasound to ease our minds.  By my calculations I should have been 7 weeks 4 days.  With Barrett we saw the heartbeat so that's what we fully expected to see and hear.  We went in for the ultrasound.  The tech got started and I knew she didn't see what we were expecting to see.  I remember with Barrett she almost immediately told us she saw the heartbeat and we got to hear it.  You could have heard crickets this time.   She finished and was so sweet to us.  She told us there was no baby, just a gestational sac.  She said I could be not as far along as I thought.  I tried to hold back the tears but I knew that we should have seen more.  We went back and waited to see the doctor.

I felt like we waited forever (probably because we are idiots and had Barrett with us).  We saw the doctor and she was optimistic.  She said we were in a "normal" range for the time frame.  I once again had hope.  I had to do lab work that day and was told to come back in two days for more lab work and a week for another ultrasound.  We came home and tried to process what was going on.  We didn't tell anyone yet we were planning to wait until we knew more..  

The next day the nurse called me with my lab results and it wasn't good.  My beta level was 9,500 and she said at that level we should have seen cardiac activity on the ultrasound.  My progesterone was really low too.  The nurse basically said that this was not going to be a successful pregnancy.  (Those aren't the words or phrases she used but that's what she implied).  I was out getting lunch when I talked to her I called Patrick and got really upset.  When I went back in the office and had to tell my boss what was going on.  He was supportive and at that point it was a waiting game.  I picked Barrett up from school and we finished up some things at work.  That afternoon the bleeding got a lot worse.  I knew it was the end.  I called Patrick and then the doctor.  They wanted me to come back in Thursday morning. (This post is so long but I want it all in one spot.)  We knew we needed to tell our parents but we didn't want to upset them.  We made arrangements for my Dad to keep Barrett Thursday morning and Patrick met me at the doctor.  I was nervous and sad.  They sent us for an ultrasound and it looked exactly the same as before.  I had to see a different doctor and he basically said there wasn't a baby and there won't be a baby.  (I'm totally paraphrasing but that was the jist).  We went and got Barrett and took the rest of the day off work.  We went to lunch and came home and cuddled with Barrett and just loved on him.  We are so sad and heartbroken.  But I know there is a plan for us.  I'm sad but I can't let myself sit and dwell on what could have been.  I can't change what happened.  All I can do is focus on the future so that is what we're choosing to do.  We trust the Lord has a plan and that His plan is better than any plan we could come up with.

I have struggled with how much to share.  But I've been so supported by fellow moms that have experienced this heart break.  I hope that no one I know needs my support but I'll be there if they do.  I want women to know that no matter how common it is or how often someone tells you how common it is, until you've experienced it you can't imagine the hurt.  And knowing how common it is didn't really bring me comfort, it made me hurt for all the others that have walked in these shoes.