hola, isabel

I’ve seen more fake mustaches in the last five days then I’ve seen in all my years, put together.

It is official, I love fake mustaches!!

(This week I plan to post every fake mustache picture The King received in his inbox on his birthday.  And, there were A LOT OF FAKE MUSTACHE picture.)

He got fake mustache pictures from long lost friends from high school…

And fake mustache pictures from my little younger brother….

Heck, he even got fake mustaches from Germany.

Not only did he get fake mustache pictures from Berlin, he also got one from Scranton, PA.

One from Forks, WA.

And one from an undisclosed location.  (I could tell you where this picture was taken. But I’d have to kill you.)

On a completely unrelated to fake mustaches note, I had my two-week-post-operation doctors appointment last week.  My doctor is amazing and  I thanked her for being so compassionate.  (She performed my surgery on her day off.  This was the second time she’d done this surgery for me on her day off.)  I know she sees failed pregnancies a lot (maybe even on a daily basis), and yet she is very compassionate about it.

I think that says a lot about her as a person and as a doctor.

We all agreed that my body needs time to heal.  I was pregnant for four months and the doctor feels like my body needs, at least, that much time to heal.

I don’t know how long it takes hearts to heal.

Tests were not performed on the previous two failed pregnancies.   But this one…well, this one was completely unrelated to the previous two mishaps.  Tests were performed this time and results were discussed last week.

They have no idea what happened to cause this.

Part of me thinks this is a good thing.  We know there wasn’t a genetic problem with the baby.  Nothing that could be passed on to the next one.  The other part of me was hoping there had been something wrong.  Something to tell us what we did wrong and what we can make sure to do right next time.

The King said this one is easier then the last two.  But for me, it’s harder.  I was pregnant.  I was wearing maternity clothes.  I was expecting to feel the baby move in the next week or so.  I had spent the day e-mailing with Carrisa about possible German baby names.

I’m back to my plain old regular clothes.  I packed up a box full of my maternity clothes last week.  The King will move them down into the basement this week.

I can eat soft cheese all day and sleep on my stomach at night.  I can take Advil and ride any ride I want at Disneyland.

Yep, life goes on.

(Mini felt fake mustached Ira Glass sort of looks like Hitler.  Gulp.)

(Good thing the cast of “Gossip Girl” is still just as beautiful with fake mustaches!)