About Me

Decent wife. Good Enough Mom. (I think, but you’d have to ask my kids.) Sporadic blogger. Crazy person. Chaos Manager. Finder of stray socks and missing shoes. Loves to cook, wishes it wasn’t demanded of her daily. Runs on caffeine.

Thursday, December 27, 2018

Hitting the nail in the head

I asked my husband today if his aunt had texted him the same pictures she had texted me yesterday.

“No, what were they?”

“Oh, she was just looking through old photos and found one of me and her boys when they were just a hair taller than me. And one of our first baby boy and you. She had to put the albums away and stop looking at them though. They were making her sad.”

“I don’t get that, why you women are like that. It shouldn’t make you sad. It an exciting new time in life, it’s like a graduation, moving in to the next phase of life. You should be happy.”

“No, babe. To us it feels like a loss. To us it is a loss.”

Wednesday, December 26, 2018

Well 2018...

I feel like I lost so much of this year. Time is always a thief, but this year took more than it’s fair share. I almost can’t even remember the first half of the year because the second half was so full of stress and struggles and sadness.

Basically from the time we received that lawsuit in June everything just went downhill. I hardly enjoyed most of the summer with the kids because I was so stressed out and scared, and spent so much time worrying and collecting information and years-old documents. The stress of that didn’t let up at all until we were presented with the stress of a non-viable surprise pregnancy. I am left with a lot of lingering anger and PTSD and sadness, even now. There are just so many things ending and changing this school year. I don’t really know how to cope with it all.

It took me a very long time to get in to the holiday spirit this year...and here it is Christmas has come and gone. I don’t know exactly what it is I am struggling with that has made it hard to put my heart and soul into this season. Is it the financial part? We never really have the money to afford the holiday the way we do, so that is nothing new. Part of me feels undeserving, but I don’t really know why except that I feel like I am failing at this parenting/adulting gig, but I don’t know why I feel that way either. And I definitely feel like I was robbed of something this year, of several somethings, like peace and security. 

I think I may have some PPD going on in some form. I have definitely lost the sense of joy and peace  altogether. I feel a lot like I am just going through the motions of life and that I am otherwise just faking it big time. I feel a lot lost. I feel a lot like I’m doing life all wrong.

Sitting in mass on Christmas Eve, I suddenly became very aware that I should be feeling my baby kick right about now, I should be rubbing my baby belly and feeling my baby kick. And today I noticed...my arms are smooth from losing my arm hair from the post-miscarriage hormone loss. My haircut is shorter now so I haven’t noticed that hair loss as much as usual, but I have lost my arm hair before. And I woke up today with my period, so it’s all just a reminder of a year that went so wrong in so many ways. It’s all a reminder that grief sneaks up on you, and a reminder that I am still trying to find my footing after such a tumultuous year.

It’s a combination of finally having some free time to sit and process this holiday season. I am finally able to take a breath and sit by myself and let my mind wander, instead of having a million hings to do or thinking of all the million things I need to do. I finally got a decent nights’ sleep and don’t feel like I am running on empty physically. Emotionally I don’t feel like I have a lot left in the tank though.

I have always hated New Years. It’s just never been a great time for me, ever, going way, way back. I hate the build up to the calendar changing, as if that makes everything go away. I hate the implied obligations to make and keep resolutions. I refuse to get caught up in all of that nonsense.

I pray that 2019 is a better year for all of us everywhere. I pray that if you are struggling or sad or flailing that you find your footing and your way. I hope that we can all find that thing that makes us feel whole again. I hope that wherever you are and whoever you are, you know that you are not alone. That we all have our struggles and stresses and sadness. I hope that everyone realizes that they are enough. I hope that love wins out. I hope that we all find our way through the madness.

I hope that 2019 helps me to be better, in every way.

Wednesday, November 28, 2018

Tying it all together

It’s been a while since I have been here. Life has been busy and honestly I just didn’t know what to say. Life has been pretty status quo. We did all of our fall activities like the pumpkin farm and hayride (where I proceeded to lose my phone under all the hay despite warnings about that very thing before the ride started), carved pumpkins, did lots of trick or treating or a very mild weathered night (you just never know what you are going to get in the mid-atlantic), celebrated baby boy turning 3, and otherwise raced through November to Thanksgiving where we spent time with my sister and her family, made and froze all my Christmas cookie dough while the turkey was cooking, shopped after Thanksgiving dinner, had the usually holiday fight with my mom, and finally got our Christmas Tree, which we are still working on decorating, because the thing is HUGE, probably our biggest one yet. No angel on top this year as it’s way too tall even after cutting at least 8” off the trunk. But it is the perfect shape and I love it. I will have to do a picture post because I don’t know how to get pictures to add when blogging on my phone, it just won’t work or pull from my camera roll.

I have a NYC trip coming up in a week with just my daughters and I, and I really can’t wait. I managed to score a long puffer coat with a hood for $2.34 on Black Friday (there were 3 discounts on the coat, it should have cost me $16 on an originally $80 price, but they charged me wrong. When I went back to get the receipt adjusted, they still did the discounts wrong so they ended up refunding me all but $2.34 somehow.) It’s going to be cold, and possibly raining, so I am glad I found this coat. I am very excited because I don’t get much time with just my girls. It’s hard to find things in common to do together where we don’t have to include little kids.

The holidays this year have made me feel some sort of way. I have this overwhelming sense of loss and emptiness that has felt like a gaping hole. It’s more than just my recent loss, or the sadness that floats to the surface more this time of year. Things just haven’t felt quite right. Normally by now I have been listening to Christmas music nonstop for weeks, I have started shopping, I have a plan. And this year I’m half-hearted in it all. It doesn’t help that everywhere you turn there is that expectation to be “thankful, grateful, blessed” (I HATE that overused “blessed”. It’s just so...UGH.) and to have candy canes shooting out from your ass all season long. It makes it so much more difficult to admit you are struggling.

But Mel (stirrup-queens.com since my linky think won’t work either) had a post yesterday about loss and it put into words what I haven’t been able to explain, but it also made me think, to really take a look at what I am feeling. And I apologize if this gets sappy but I think my period is trying to come back and I am getting teary just typing this.

So my oldest daughter turned 18 this year. And she is a senior, and she is working, and I don’t have her around as much. She isn’t at dinner with us most nights. Her littlest siblings miss her so damn much, because of her hours they might see her before bed but not always. She doesn’t have free reign to come and go as she pleases, but she has some leeway so long as I know where she is and about when to expect her home. Friday they were off school. My other 2 spent Thanksgiving night at my moms with my sister and her family. It was me and the little boys. I knew she had plans, but she went  to leave suuuuper early, and I questioned when I noticed Toddler boy asking for her. I got upset because sometimes it seems like “anywhere but here” is where she would rather be. And I KNOW it’s part of growing up but MAN does it suck for my mama heart. So I tried to point out that taking a few minutes to be with her siblings before she left would go a long way for all of us, and she made a comment about how she wouldn’t even be living at home much longer (when she enlists) and I don’t know it all just kind of hit me. Between what she said and all the school emails about graduation gowns and dates, and filling out the 2019 calendar where I came to April/May. And I sort of had a weird come to Jesus moment where it all just clicked.

That baby I was briefly pregnant with would have been something physical to hold onto and nurture and love when the rest of my world was spinning out of control, where a part of my heart was going to physically break off and go out into the world alone, without me. And the realization that my time of being an influence, of making a difference, of shaping her, was pretty much done. For better or worse. And that I have no clue how to do this part of parenthood. I know the baby part, that’s what I know I am good at. What if the rest of it I sucked at? 

So my pregnancy loss was leaving more than a baby-shaped hole in my heart. It was something that was going to help me stay grounded and get through this huge letting go that is going to have to happen. And without it, I am floating around lost. Closing the door on so many things. The holidays just have a way to bring all of this out and to the surface. This trip to NYC is going to be special in so many ways. I hope it also offers some healing and acceptance as well.



Tuesday, November 6, 2018

the aftermath

Since there is a nationwide shortage of the tubing normally used in a suction d&c, my doctor did the procedure a different way, instead using a hysteroscope and and a small spinning blade, which actually allows for more accurate work since you can see exactly what you are removing before you remove it.

He cleared out the uterine cavity of a lot of tissue and blood products that had detached from the wall but were just sitting in there stuck since I hadn’t been having any cramps that would force it out. He checked my lower uterus and the incision site and all of that looked very good and strong and solid. Then he went up a little higher, and there at the top of my uterus was a tiny blue bubble that was the gestational sac. Right there at the top of my uterus where it was supposed to be. It wasn’t ectopic or implanted too low in my uterus too close to the old incision site or my cervix. Nope, my baby was right where it was supposed to be. Behind it was all the build up of blood we saw on the ultrasound, so it wasn’t a possible twin it was the same sac that had shrunk down so small it wasn’t visible on ulatrsojnd any longer. I never actually passed it. My almost baby hung on until the last second, even the labor intense contractions I had couldn’t get it to let go. That baby wanted to be here with me, too.

After I sat for a while and wrote my last post, I tried to stop at my favorite store that is near my doctor’s office, but I couldn’t even enjoy it, I was so weighted down and sad. I ended up putting back half of what I picked up and just got out of there as fast as I could. I got back in the car and put on some music and every song that came on just seemed to be talking directly to me in how I felt in that moment.

The entirety of the lyrics to “Angel Wings” by Social Distortion. Here’s a portion:

You say you're down on your luck
Hey baby It's a long, long way up
Hold back now, hold back your fears
You say you're really down and out
And you feel like there's no way out now
Let go now let go of your tears some more

How many times have you asked yourself?
Is this the hand of fate now that I've been dealt?
You're so disillusioned this can't be real
And you can't stand now the way you feel

I don't care about what they say
I won't live or die that way
Tired of figuring out things on my own
Angel's wings won't you carry me home?

And then this small portion from September by Daughtry

Reflecting now on how things could've been
It was worth it in the end
Now it all seems so clear, there's nothing left to fear
So we made our way by finding what was real
Now the days are so long that summer's moving on
We reach for something that's already gone, yeah
Thanks shuffle.
So I ended up sobbing my heart out on the drive home, everything I had been holding in since that appointment, everything just came crashing down on me, and all of a sudden I had this thought, this realization.
We should have been grateful. Instead of being shocked and scared and just so overwhelmed when the two lines popped up, we should have just been grateful. Maybe if we had things would have turned out differently.

Monday, November 5, 2018

one step forward two steps back

Today marks 2 weeks since my D&C. I just got done with my post-op appointment.

Overall I have been doing ok these past couple weeks. It has helped that I have been busy with other things like fall activities and Halloween and my baby’s third birthday. After the first four days the light bleeding turned to spotting about every other day. At the end of last week I did have more cramping than I had been having, and yesterday I had some light bleeding for a little bit in the morning.

Yesterday I was looking ahead at a 2019 calendar to schedule some PTO time at work, and I came to April and suddenly got really sad. And I flashed back to finding out I was pregnant and how it was said (not by me) that some things in April that we had scheduled would need to be changed around, and I just felt the weight of all of this all over again. I WISH we had to change things around now. I also had to delete some accounts where the info is very pregnancy/baby centric because photos of newly earthside babies on their mamas’ chests were just killing me, as well as just stop visiting some sites I frequent.

So my appointment tonight went well. My doctor is just so great, and so is his nurse, but man it hurt to be there. No pregnant people (he only does limited OB now for a few select patients) and the other girl in the office has been dealing with post-miscarriage issues for a couple weeks longer than I. I had time to lay there by myself in the exam room and just thought how different this visit was compared to other times I have been on that same table in that same room. My doctor told me he had some scope pictures if I wanted to see, and the medical side of me wanted to see. But my heart just couldn’t  get past the fact that there in the magnified picture was my almost-baby. Medically what was a really cool finding (because the usual way they do this procedure they would have either missed this or never seen it) and awesome for the resident who was in the room that day. Pathology confirmed there was no fetal tissue, it was definitely a blighted Ovum, and empty sac. And I had them check my urine and my pregnancy test was indeed negative now. I’m glad. I don’t think I could have dealt with buying my own tests and waiting to see negatives again, or worse just seeing positives still after all of this.

My doctor and I had a discussion where I said “I am just having trouble moving past this. Getting to a point where I don’t wish for another baby, getting to a point where I am ok being done.” And he just said “I know.” and sat with me in that thought for a bit. And it’s true. My heart aches for the longing for another baby, for things to feel complete. And I am still so sad and so angry that I am not pregnant now. And I wish I was, so badly. And I know another pregnancy isn’t going to make me feel better, it isn’t going to make everything magically ok. It will probably make things worse initially. And I also know that this might happen again.

I want to write about something else, anything else, I really do. But you know, no one asks about how you are doing once they think everything is over. I have some people who never even asks how I was after the D&C. I have no other place to put these feelings, and if I carry them around silently any longer I might not ever be ok again.

So I am here, sitting in my car in the parking lot watching it rain, and pouring my heart out here so that I can go home and try and be anything but how I feel inside, and hope that each day I can stop taking steps backwards and just move forward. Finally.

Friday, November 2, 2018

Cancer Conundrum

Weird title, I know, but I need some advice.

I mentioned in a few recent posts about a close friend of mine who at 43 is dealing with a recurrence of cancer. It is now in multiple areas of her body (lungs, brain, and subcutaneous areas) and is undergoing extensive treatments to try and prolong her life. She has so far done several rounds of radiation to different areas and has now started chemo.

She is extremely lucky in that she hasn’t been too sick (so far) and has mostly been able to carry on with life, minus working. She has been able to be out and about with her family and friends and been ok, which is amazing. While we are close, I am not in the inner circle of her life as I once was, as our kids started different schools and activities and our career paths diverged, but we have always been able to pick right back up where we left off. I am sure we all have friends that fall in to that category.

So what I need help with is I don’t know how to communicate with her now that she is facing this huge hurdle and her life is taken up by something so huge. I mean, I reach out and check on her and ask/offer to do whatever she might need, and she will reach out with any new medical news but that is about it. I ask about her family and if they can use any help or support, she is forthcoming with personal info about her and everyone, but then that’s about it because I don’t know, there’s just only so much, I am praying for you, that must be hard, what can I do, how are you doings you can ask in one conversation.

I feel...guilty if I talk about anything going on in my life, and she doesn’t ask anything at all, not even a “how are you”. Which is fine, I mean, I don’t expect her to have much else on her mind, when she is literally fighting for her life. The one time I mentioned anything about me (I was saying how I understood a teen issue because my daughter had had a similar thing) she didn’t acknowledge any of that. So I just stopped mentioning anything going on over here, but then the conversation stops because idk I just don’t know what else to say.

I am not mad about it, but I am trying to figure out if I should just try and keep talking with talking about what’s going on in my life. Personally I feel very guilty and terrible if I do talk about it. I mean, it’s not like she is bedridden and not out and about doing fun fall activities with her family, but it feels like she has to do all these things because it’s likely the last time she will get to fall, not because it’s just that time of year to do them, if that makes sense. I don’t want to talk about my life and make her feel bad or worse in any way, but I don’t know how else to carry on the conversation. If she weren’t so sick I would know how to talk to her, but I feel like what she is going through changes everything, changes all the rules. I have tried to imagine what I would want, and I feel like I wouldn’t want to be treated or talked to differently, but then again I literally can’t imagine what it must be like facing the reality that you might have to say goodbye to the world way too soon.

Does anyone have any experience with a friend or family member who has gone through this? Or been the one who was sick yourself? I would love any kind of advice anyone has. This has been weighting on me for a while now.


Monday, October 22, 2018

the d&c

I has my D&C done this morning, and I am home and resting(ish). I was really nervous and a little scared because I haven’t been put under anesthesia is over 20 years, but also because I didn’t really know what to expect, so I wanted to write about my experience here in case it helps anyone else if they ever need this procedure.

Last week I had to repeat some bloodwork to check my hcg levels and also get a CBC for pre-op. The CBC has to be within the last 30 days, and the beta was to see if my numbers were falling (I found out today they were, down in the one-thousands from the twos a week prior.) I was scheduled for 7:45am so I had to arrive at 6:45am, and I couldn’t have anything to eat or drink after midnight. I did cheat and had some water in the middle of the night and also when I woke up, but I didn’t tell them that. Also the night before I would look at the clock and think “In 12 hours this will be over” every couple of hours and that helped me not be too upset and nervous all night.

My friend picked me up at 6am to drive me, and thankfully she just talked to me about random stuff on the way so I didn’t have time to think too much or get in my head and be nervous. My tummy was nervous so I found a bathroom when we got there right away before checking in.

When I arrived I checked in and after a few minutes met with registration to verify all my info and sign the billing forms. After that my friend and I sat and talked for a few minutes but my nervous tummy made me find  the bathroom again. When I got back the pre-op nurse was collecting my friend’s information, and she took me to the back to have me change. I had to take off everything but because I was spotting I could leave my undies on for now. They made me put on compression stockings and footies. When I first was left alone to change I started to get a little freaked out and panicked and started to cry, but I made myself get undressed and just do this.

When I came out the nurse wanted to check my blood pressure, temperature, start an IV, and lots of questions on the computer. I told her I was very nervous, and she was so kind asking me questions about what happened and showing genuine care and concern and telling me how sorry she was. She mentioned I was posted for general anesthesia where you have to be intubated, and I kind of freaked out and she said “You don’t want that” and I told her No, that’s not what I thought I was going to get, I thought I was getting Twilight (IV sedation) and she assured me I could talk to the anesthesiologist shortly and not to worry. I also asked about the level of pain afterward and was assured it should be minimal, like period cramps, since I was already in the process of miscarriage, meaning my cervix was already open and I had passed a lot of tissue myself already. She couldn’t get an IV to work in my left hand so she got another nurse to try while she finished questioning me and straightening out my meds listened in the computer. Somehow the pain meds and other stuff I was given after my last C-section during my hospital stay was listed as drugs I currently take, so it looked like I had a pain-meds habit HAH so we had to adjust all of that.

The OB resident came in to explain the procedure and risks, and I was asked if I was OK with receiving blood products if they were needed (unlikely, but still) I signed all the consents. I also spoke to the nurse and my doctor that while I didn’t have a written advanced directive, my husband and I had a verbal one so that if something happened they needed to call him because he knows what I would want for my care. This is scary but necessary, and I plan to have it in writing soon. All I will say is do not wait to have one, because if something sudden happens to you, your spouse or next of kin will be asked to make decisions on your care, and that is way too emotional of a time for anyone to be trying to think clearly, and it is a burden on them to decide for you. This prompted a quick recap with my doc about why my husband was at home (GI bug still cycling through the house, 2 others home sick today) and that my friend he was talking to was outside. He also told me all the tissue would be sent to pathology for testing which is routine here, but not necessarily a routine thing everywhere.

My doc came in while Anesthesia was just walking in, and together they clarified (and I overheard) that I would NOT need general anesthesia so I was relieved. The Anesthesiologist took time to listen to my concerns (mainly anxiety and panicked attacks when I get on the OR table) and gave me lots of time for questions and told me I could have whatever drugs I needed to be calm and comfortable. Versed is an anti-anxiety med I have been given before getting a Spinal during my C-section and it is wonderfully calming, and I told him that was my friend for making his job easier and he said he would give that to me.

One thing I want to say here is that anytime you are in a hospital receiving care, it can feel like things just happen to you without you really understanding what is happening or having a choice in it. You almost always have a choice (as long as there is no immediate emergent issue) so ALL of your care providers should talk to you about everything that is/will happen and give you time to ask questions, and they should listen to you if you know there are things you need that work best, ect. If things feel rushed, it is you right to slow things down and ask for a minute to think.

After that they brought my friend in to give me a hug and kiss and take my phone from me and my locker key. I stopped in the bathroom one more time and then we walked to the OR with my doctor, who explained the procedure in medical terms for me (and when he said blade and I grimaced he teased me and said oh gosh, it’s a tiny thing, and I joked that it wasn’t going in his uterus, and I was calm for a second. It was super tiny, not at all like the actual hospital rooms, and my anesthesia doc asked why I had that terrible look in my face, and I kind of bounced on my heals for a few while they got the bed ready and moved my one gown, and got me a bag for my undies I had taken off in the bathroom. As soon as they got me positioned on the table, they gave me an oxygen mask and the Versed and I immediately felt relaxed and shortly after that I was asleep.

I woke up not too much later super groggy for the first few minutes, but I looked over at the anesthesiologist and thanked him for waking me up. They were asking me to move over to the stretcher but I couldn’t figure out which way to go and went the wrong direction, like my brain couldn’t tell my body what to do, I couldn’t figure out what to do. I said “hold on, I feel drunk” and my doctor laughed at me and said “well, you are drunk. When is the last time you drank?” And I told him about the Margaritas my friend and I had Wednesday at our Mexican place, and we talked for a minute about how it was one of the only places open again in this town that flooded recently. It so funny because I had to have sounded like a fruit loop, I don’t know how I formed words because I didn’t feel like I was there at all, I think my eyes were half shut. My nose felt weird and the anesthesia doctor pulled a tube out of my nostril, because I was snoring bad. I told him that I have a deviated septum and I also think I was starting to come down with a cold. I also realized I had a massive headache along the front of my head and the back of my neck. He told me the drugs he gave me (Propofol, Fentanyl, and Toradol) because Propfol wasn’t quite enough to keep me from moving. I have never had Fentanly and it’s strong so I think my headache was from that.

I got in recovery and the nurse gave me a million blankets that I don’t think I needed but I still felt a bit groggy. My mouth was like cotton and I had to pee. She said I could get up soon if I could hold it, and asked if I wanted juice or soda and some crackers. I just wanted water but they like to see you eat something to make sure you don’t vomit. It was seriously the best water I ever had. She brought me Tylenol and oxycodone so I decided to try the crackers but my mouth was so dry it was turning to a super thick, dry goo so I gave up on that. My doctor came in and told me there was still a very tiny sac, but no baby. So either the sac was so small we couldn’t see it on ultrasound, or there were possibly 2 sacs and we missed one on the early scans. He said had I waited it out it would have taken a long time to bleed that all out and a lot of it had just been sitting there. He said my uterus looked good otherwise with no scar tissue and my C-sections scars were in good shape.

A few minutes later they brought my friend back and the nurse got my locker key and I got up and was allowed to get dressed. They made me get in a wheelchair to get there, and told me to keep the compression stockings on for 24 hours, no driving for 24 hours, no lifting anything over 5lbs for 48 hours. They also gave me a preyfor 600mgs Ibuprofen.

Things that are normal are light spotting or bleeding for a few days to 2 weeks and period cramps. Not normal is heavy bleeding, severe pain, not being able to go to the bathroom, nausea and vomiting, foul smelling smelling discharge, or fever.

So afterwards my friend and I got in the car (the nurse wheeled me out and helped me get in and buckled, which felt a bit much) and we stopped at Walmart to get something for my dinner and a few other supplies. She was hungry and convinced me to eat subway with her, then we stopped for Starbucks, and then she wanted to see the Goodwill near my house since I was up for it. I didn’t feel bad, just a little high from the pain meds but other than that I was ok.

It’s been about 8 hours now and I still feel ok, I have a headache and I got a little crampy, but Inteied to lay down and can’t really relax. I already called the office and made my 2 week follow-up appointment and the girl in the office was surprised I was doing so well already. I don’t think I really understood the full-ranging effects of this prolonged miscarriage until now. I feel...relieved. And I feel so cared for, from the nursing staff to my doctor, to my friend. I know they were just doing their jobs, but I work in healthcare and not everyone has great bedside matter or makes you feel safe and loved and listened to.

While I was laying down, my 14 year old daughter came home from school. She had been worried all day, and I didn’t really talk about this with them, because I was so scared myself and didn’t know what it would be like so I felt like I didn’t have anything I could share with them. So she laid with me and I told her everything and what they do and even things she didn’t understand about women exams that it’s all through the vaginau. And I felt really bad that my fear and silence did a disservice to her. I made a mental note to try and better keep my kids informed of things, as much as I may want to shield them from it or not feel the feelings myself.

I still have a headache and feel a bit foggy, so I plan to get to bed early tonight. But overall I feel such relief and healing. Thank you to everyone who has read my words or left comments or emails of support and abiding over these past few weeks. It feel really good to have so much support here when I feel like people on the outside don’t really understand these feelings. While I don’t wish this on anyone, it is comforting to know I am not alone, and haven’t been alone in my feelings or experience, unfortunately.

I have a Day in The Life post all documented I just need to write it up, but I plan to get that posted this week.

Thursday, October 18, 2018

little reminders

Finally, surgery is scheduled for Monday. Just a few more days of this, and then hopefully Inwill have some closure and can move on from this. I am really ready to get off this one-waybtrain to nowhere. I really wanted to blog something different this week and was all set to do a Day in The Life post, and then the day I was going to write about started with a whole lot of puke and other GI distresses, and no one needs to read about that. I am going to attempt to document tomorrow and write it up this weekend. Fingers crossed.

I went to get my pre-op bloodwork done yesterday, apparently the CBC I had done wasn’t recent enough. I went about 40 minutes before the lab closed, and it was empty when I got there. I was minding my own business trying to figure out the new self-check-in kiosk, when I heard from around the corner “Yeah, everyone says they think I am having a girl this time, but I think boy”, and I looked behind me to see a super pregnant woman. Of course there was.

Luckily I couldn’t dwell on that because right after I was meeting my friend for dinner and we ate way too much delicious Mexican food and I might have had a few Margaritas and a ton of laughs. And without even asking, she told me she is taking me on Monday. Due to school and other child care issues I was all set to go by myself and Uber home, which seemed reasonable to me when faced with what to do, but she was having none of it.

And this morning getting dressed I looked down and noticed the pooch of my lower belly from my uterus, which is not full of life but of remaining products of conception that it is trying to rid itself of. The constant dull ache of my uterus reminds me of that all day long, and also reminds me of the terrible job it is doing of cleansing itself.

But Monday. Monday all this will be gone, and I can finally start healing and move on.

Monday, October 15, 2018

surgery is looking imminent

After all of the extended cramping and bleeding and the ultrasound my doctor did, I was hopeful I was over some of the worst of it, like my body did what it was supposed to do. My doctor wanted me to follow up on Friday morning if it was still lots of clotting and blood. Well, it had been first thing in the morning when I woke up but then it had been tapering off to a bit more than spotting by early afternoon, so I figured I would wait and get my blood drawn the next day and have a better picture of everything.

Well. My beta is 2781. I know. So I had the u/s tech scan me and I guess all the cramping has moved a bunch of tissue around so now I have 22mm of echogenic gunk in my uterus. And I wouldn’t say that I have exactly been cramping over the last couple days, more like little irritations. So clear sky this miscarriage is incomplete.

My doctor has wanted to prescribe me either cytotec or Methergine to take at home. But I am TERRIFIED of taking something at home. The labor-intense contractions last week were at the very top of my pain threshold. I couldn’t function at all it was so bad, all I could do was rock back and forth on my hands and knees and breathe/cry. That kind of pain just seems cruel and unnecessary to just expel the remains of a failed pregnancy. I am so scared that taking medication at home is going to cause that kind of pain and then I am just stuck in it.

And I am also just SO angry that things are going this way. That my options now are extreme pain and more bleeding or surgery. Which takes me back to the circle of guilt and and the what did I do to deserve this thoughts I wrote about yesterday. And part of me now feels like surgery is the best option to just get all this over with, to just be done with all this shit. And my heart. Oh, how this is just stabbing me in the heart.

I do ok for a while, especially at last weeks’ end, when I thought I was almost done with this and hopeful for a nice low beta, if not back to zero. That sent me into a panic spiral and also just a sad letdown of feelings. After work I went to do some necessary retail therapy at Goodwill to try to get out of my head and just process everything, to let things settle.

And I came across the most beautifully soft crib bedding hidden among the tablecloths and I paused for a moment and ran my hands along the soft plush fabric thinking how perfect it was, and feeling a physical squeezing pain in my heart, and I almost lost it right there in Goodwill amongst the curtains and housewares. And all in one quick moment I felt all 5 of those stages of grief wash over me, one after another. And I felt myself start to cramp a little more and felt the blood once again leaking out into the pad in my underwear and I was brought right back to reality.

I am about to reach out to my doctor. Unless he can give me some reasonable assurance that using Methergeine will likely work and that it shouldn’t send me in to actual labor, then I am going to get on the schedule for a D&C, hopefully by weeks end and finally be done with this part of my nightmare.

Sunday, October 14, 2018

Guilt and disarray

Lately I have been consumed with feeling of guilt over my miscarriage. That I somehow put something bad out in the universe to deserve this. That maybe I’m just not a good enough mother, a good enough person and I don’t deserve to have another child. That maybe because I was shocked and scared and didn’t embrace the pregnancy the second I found out, that maybe I somehow caused this to happen. I know in my head and my heart that that is not true, but thoughts and feelings in grief and distress are not always rational and sometimes in the quiet moments, in the darkest and saddest moments these thoughts creep in.

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Towards the end of last week I realized that with everything else going on, I needed to grocery shop because I needed to cook some meals for my family. Wednesday afternoon I get ambitious so I went out and picked up some fresh meats and other ingredients and grilled up several meals worth of dinners. The air was thick and humid and not at all fall-like and I kept thinking how I was just waiting for that cooler air, the ushering in of a new season so I could take a deep breathe and feel lighter.

Thursday I went back out shopping for all the other stuff the house needed, came home and made another fresh meal, and went to try and get some bills paid and sort out the budget, things that have gone by the wayside as I just haven’t had the mental energy to deal with. I ended up in a really awful mood and put myself to bed rather early because I just couldn’t deal with life.

Friday was a no-preschool day and my boys and I decided we just needed a morning to chill out together and not do too much. My niece texted me and asked if she could bring a healthy lunch and would I eat it with her. While she was hear entertaining the boys, I decided to start doing some laundry, something else I realized I hadn’t done in a while. When I got to the basement, I saw about 6 loads of laundry that needed to get done, all piled up in baskets and hampers. I found towels in the dryer and wet towels in the washer, evidence that someone had at least attempted to help out. But all of the laundry and all of the mess looked like I have felt these past weeks, in utter disarray.

And it made me realize that that was part of my problem. All that piled up laundry and stack of bills that had to get paid was evidence that the rest of the world kept moving, that everyone else kept moving, while I was stuck in place. My external world had stopped. And I don’t know how to move forward. I don’t know how to keep going as if everything is normal, as if nothing has changed. I feel sort of like frozen in time. It doesn’t feel right that everything keeps on going, that I am expected to just keep it moving.

Maybe because I am still in the thick of it. I don’t have any resolve yet. I have the possibility of a D&C lingering in the air, thanks to bloodwork that shows my hcg levels are still very high. Maybe once this is all said and done for good I will finally feel free, like I can truly take a deep breathe and continue on.

Wednesday, October 10, 2018

36 hours

To say yesterday was rough would be a complete understatement. All of my strong resolve just broke and I finally cried my soul out.

But before that my pre-schooler had a complete meltdown when my husband tried to take him to his first day of school. Probably due to me not being there as much as the fact that we had a super late night getting home the day before. So I’m between all of my tears and pain and grief I had to come up with an incentive plan that would help him want to try again the next day.

Then I ended up in a fight with my husband. I probably haven’t felt so far away from him before, but this current loss is driving a wedge between us in a way previous losses and IF did not. I feel so alone and not at all understood. He doesn’t see that it’s not a cut and dry thing...it didn’t happen one day and the next day is fine. It’s lonely over here.

Putting my youngest to bed last night something triggered me and I just lost it. I lost every shred of any kind of hold I had on the situation, and I broke down in hysterical sobs on my baby boys head with my arms wrapped around him, my tears soaking his head and pillow. And he turned toward me and wrapped his tiny arms around my neck and patted my back and i just lost it even more, until finally I had cried myself to sleep.

Scared I was going to miss a dose of medicine and wake up in excruciating pain again, I woke twice in the middle of the night to take more medicine. I woke up this morning with a massive migraine, and my eyes so puffy and swollen I looked on the outside how I felt on the inside. I managed to get myself  and 2 boys together enough to try going to pre-school again. On the way out the door baby boy puked up some milk with a burp right on to the kitchen floor. I feel him and he feels warm but doesn’t have a fever. We make it through preschool drop off with no issues. (Thanks to a School Chart we made with frownyand smiley faces for good drop off days and bad, and the promise that I’m good days he gets some electronics time when he gets home) but as I am buckling Baby boy back in to his seat realized he was about to puke and quickly unbuckled him but didn’t get him out before he puked curdled milk up all over himself. So I knew at that point he probably had a fever now, because the only time he puked up curdled milk is when he has spiked a fever. So we got home and I cleaned him up and checked his temp and sure enough he now had a fever. I gave him some Motrin and also a Zofran dissolve-able left over from a stomach bug, because he has a terrible hah reflex and once he starts liking he can’t stop. We rested on the couch together for a while before he peeked up and drank some water and ate a banana and a popsicle. (Basically whatever he wanted that he could keep down.) Mr. Preschool had a great day and it was so sweet to see my little boys hugging each other because they missed each other.

When I am feeling really emotional about something it helps me if I can try and identify exactly what is causing my feelings, so I have been reflecting on this a lot over the last week but especially the last couple of days. And I guess it comes down to a couple of things. One thing is that I have living, physical proof of what this loss (and my others) have taken away from me. I love my kids so hard and so much that it physically hurts. I don’t really remember my other losses hitting me quite like this, physically or emotionally. At least not on this scale. And I have been searching for why it feels this way this time. And I realized that it is because before, I had the hope of maybe one day having the chance to have it happen again, to experience another pregnancy. And this time, I feel like it was my final chance at that. By the time this is ever all said and done, it’s very unlikely that I will get the chance again. And suddenly the finality of this part of my life seems so much more clear. When I left pursuing a pregnancy it was always kind of open ended, and even though it was definitely not on my radar when this surprised happened, after the initial shock it was embraced and felt like that one last chance, and now that chance is gone and with it the hope of anything ever again.

Which also makes me reflect on the question of Is it worth it? Is it worth the risk of experiencing this kind of loss again for the chance to do it all over one more time. I thought about this a lot yesterday as I sat in my closet surrounded by baby items that either wouldn’t fit or were too fragile to be stored in the attic...things like nursing pillows, silly baby wraps, breast pumps, part of the bassinet and pack and play. And I couldn’t help but look at it all and thinking what a waste, to have all of this and have no use for it. And part of me was so angry I wanted to pack it all up and get rid of it right then and there, but I am far too emotional to make any rash decisions, I know this about myself. But then I kept going back to Is is worth it? Anything worth having is worth it, right? I’m not so sure. I miss the days of being naive to all of this, the loss, the difficulty of it all. I know that any subsequent pregnancy( should that ever happen) will be drought with worry. Loss took away my ability to really relax into and enjoy being pregnant, even after making it to term with #4, I was still always holding my breathe with #5, up until the very end when they pulled him out, and even every single day since. Loss has already given me extreme anxiety around all things pregnancy and baby. But is it worth it? If I had to go through this loss to get to the next one and ended up with a healthy baby next time, then yes, I would say it was all worth it. Of course. But. But, But, BUT. Is it worth my heart and soul to go back and keep trying, at my age, for the ending I want? Is it worth all of the heartache to get there, again, If I’m lucky, to have this happen again, or worse even? No. It’s not worth it. It’s not worth all of the TTC anxiety, it’s not worth all the early pregnancy ambiguous-ness and stress, it’s not worth first trimester sickness to end up where I am now. I even thought, well, heck, you could just skip all of the first trimester bloodwork and scans and just stick your head in the sand until 12 weeks or whatever...but no, I couldn’t. Because if I had done that this time, I would just now be finding out That something was wrong and that I was going to miscarry, when I should be close to exiting my first trimester. That wouldn’t have been better at all. And then I would have the guilt of what if I could have done something to change the outcome if I had known, like more progesterone or something. I know that if this happened again I would definitely have a D&C, as opposed as I am to surgery. I don’t think I would choose to go through this this way again.

So I guess 36 hours after my world turned upside down again I have realized that it all comes down to a finality I haven’t wanted to face, and ending to things in a way I would never want them to end. Of what it’s like when you start to refocus your life and are dealt with a surprise that makes you turn around and change course, only to have it all upended once again and stare the ending in the face, and what that does to your heart. What it has done to my heart. And how it feels like nothing wil ever be the same again. Forever changed by a baby that never got to be, but somehow had a place here that made it all feel so totally complete, even for a very short time.

Tuesday, October 9, 2018

The worst isn’t over yet

Miscarriage is lonely. Every pad I change reminds me of how my body failed me. Why couldn’t it just do what it is supposed to do? Last week I felt better and okish. The weekend even started off alright as well. But then I woke up in our hotel room in actual labor. The pain was so intense and out of the blue. I couldn’t find a comfortable position. I couldn’t take enough Motrin to full the pain. I lost the entire morning just trying to get a handle on it. I was bleeding more heavy but nothing crazy, but I was experiencing all of the stomach upset from all the intense cramping. Managed to salvage part of the day and didn’t end up feeling too bad or crampy. Made it home and got everyone settled and went to bed myself.

Woke up this morning with promise. Didn’t feel bad at all, but had taken some Motrin early just to be safe. It wouldn’t matter. Not long after waking up and trying to get my son ready for his first day of preschool, the labor pains started back up, andbthis time with extreme pressure and bleeding with clots again. It is truly a kick in the guts to be doubled over with true labor pains and not have a baby to be coking out on the other side to make all of this worth it. The physical pain matched the pain in my heart. Once again I was experiencing all of the upset stomach effects of labor, now along with extreme lower pelvic pressure and heavy blood and clots. I was breathing through every pain, sometimes to the point of tears, sometimes holding my breathe. I texted my doctor a WTF text like what am I supposed to do, is this shit normal, maybe I need a D&C after all type of text. Once again I lost the entire morning to this. Only this time my emotions and heart were completely undone by all of this.

The pain and bleeding is under control (for now) but my emotions are absolutely shook. I am beyond despair right now. Trying to let all the feeling out and cry all the tears I can. Tears for this loss, tears for what won’t get to be, tears for how damn lonely this all feels. Right now everything just feels like too much. Like I don’t know how to get out of this hole. I started thinkuanouy how it’s October already, and how since June I have felt like I was barely keeping my head above water, and how as soon as I felt like I could float I got pulled under again.  I all at oce want to curl up in a ball and hide forever, and also run as far away as I can. I will do neither and end up somewhere  in between those two things. But for right this moment as I sit alone in my closet trying to put myself back together, I feel so very sad and so very alone.

As for what my doctor said, he has so much empathy. He will schedule surgery for me as soon as I give the ok, but from what we saw on the ultrasound, I should be pretty close to having everything out, considering all the pain and tissue I have been passing. I think if I wake up tomorrow to another round of this, I am going to send him the please just schedule a D&C text to him. Earlier today I seriously wanted to ask for a total hysterectomy to just be done with all of this, but I know that is not a rational request, and that I am in no shape to be making those kinds of decisions. But sometimes it feels like it would all just be easier if I didn’t have any female organs.

Thursday, October 4, 2018

goodbye baby

Monday night I started spotting before I went to bed. I have my husband a heads up that I may need to get in to the doctor the next morning, but then nothing at all the next day, although I did got through another emotionally hard day where I was just ready and sad all day. Yesterday morning again I had some spotting when I wiped. It was a bit darker and heavier than Monday night, and I mayyyybe had some cramping. But then that was it, nothing more. This morning I again had some spotting when I wiped. I put on a pad to be safe just like the other times but didn’t really think much about it since I didn’t have any cramps at all.

A while later I went to the bathroom and had some dark purple blood with some mucous when I wiped, but still no cramps. I got up and took a few steps out of the bathroom when I felt a steady stream coming out of me. I had on a pad but it felt like that wasn’t going to be enough so I circled around back to the bathroom and sat down on the toilet. I tried to wipe but each time I felt a steady liquid flow from my body. I was home alone with a 4 year old and 2 year old. The 2 year old cane in and said “look mommy” and pointed at the blood all over the toilet seat. He took my cell phone to play with and left the bathroom. I had blood all over my hand from trying to wipe myself up. At this point I didn’t even think I could lean forward to grab another pad out of the cabinet without making a huge mess everywhere. I still didn’t feel cramps really, maybe slight ones but nothing that would have made me think I was going to start bleeding like this. At some point I heard the phone ring and asked my 4 year old to bring it to me. I at least wanted a phone nearby in case this didn’t ease up fairly quickly. My mom had called to give me some information and I asked if she could just text it to me because I had started bleeding badly and couldn’t get off the toilet right now. She immediately got worried and I told her I was OK, I was going to call my doctor.

I called my doctor while I was still sitting in the toilet. He is so wonderful, he had alerted his staff that if I called to immediately put me in touch with him, so they did just that. He asked “Are you ok? Do you think you need a D&C?” I told him no, I didn’t feel like we needed to rush to that but should I come see him, that I was bleeding with clots and some cramping. (The cramping started as I was in the phone.)He let me know he was at his other office location and he didn’t want me to drive to him because it wasn’t near me, plus that office doesn’t have an ultrasound machine so he could check things out. He asked if I needed any pain meds and if I wanted to have some medication that might help things along. I said “I don’t think I need that, I think I have already passed everything”. He said he had an appointment of his own tomorrow and couldn’t stay late but would come in early tomorrow morning and see me before his schedule started if I could meet him there. And that if I needed anything in between then to just call him.

So I sat there for a few more minutes, pretty shocked, because it happened so fast. I started to clean myself up as best I could and was wiping tons of thick purple clots. In all I was probably only bleeding like that for under 10 minutes. I sat until I felt like I wasn’t just gushing anymore. I put on double pads just in case. I went and got 4 Motrin and took that, and opened a Thermacare patch and applied that over my lower pelvis. My mom called back and said she was coming so I could put my feet up. I didn’t feel bad. I wasn’t bleeding heavy. But I let her come because she wanted to. I wasn’t even emotional at this point. The cramps did pick up a bit before the Motrin kicked in and I had a few more small gushes of blood but nothing like that. More bright red blood and some smaller period-like clots. A few intense waves of cramps here and there but nothing unmanageable.

After a little while, once I had made my boys lunch and had a cup of coffee, I went up to take a shower. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t bleeding really heavy before I got in. And it all sort of washed over me with the hot water...I just lost my baby. Even though the sac had always stayed empty, I still look at it as if it were my baby, because it was supposed to be. It was still half me and half my husband and just like all 5 of my living children and my 3 other angel babies. I loved this baby as much as I love all of them, even if I was shocked and panicked when I first found out. My oldest came home as I was getting out of the shower and just sat with me and held me while I took a moment to just reflect. I know I shouldn’t lean on her, she’s my kid, but I needed that. Because on some level, she gets it.

I was texting with my hormone specialist about all of this the other night, and she assured me that Blighted Ovums (or anembryotic pregnancies) are a complete horrible fluke and not related to age or anything I may or may not have done. She also gave me the space to talk about how I was feeling emotionally, which was nice.

The other day I ran in to someone I know from my community and she was visibly pregnant, and she was wearing a shirt that eluded to the surprise nature of her pregnancy (something about the baby being a plot twist) and while I didn’t go up to speak with her, I did silently wonder why she got to keep her surprise and I didn’t.

I suspect when I go to the doctor my uterus is going to be empty and just look like a normal menstrating uterus. I hope my doctor clears metonuse tampons because pads are just like another reminder that things went horribly wrong, and also because I want to be able to swim on our little getaway this weekend. I took off even earlier on Sunday than I had originally planned because I just need a mental break and reset. I had actually decided to do that on Tuesday when I was just feeling so emotionally raw again.

Tonight I am just going to lay low and be sad for how this ended. My oldest went to work and make me an incredibly indulgent Pumpkin Pie Frappuccino, and I am going to sit and watch TV with my husband while we get some rare Chinese food and sit just the two of us (and maybe my oldest will join us, she loves to cuddle and watch TV) Tomorrow is the homecoming parade and we will have a full house for the next 2 days so tonight is it.

Watching me lay on the couch looking pitiful and sad, my husband said that we have to make sure this never happens to me again. And that made me even sadder because this is not the ending to the story that I would write. But unfortunately I know enough to know it doesn’t really matter. You don’t always get what you want.

Monday, October 1, 2018

highs and lows

Here I sit in a different type of waiting. Waiting to miscarry this pregnancy. It’s a weird sort of limbo to be in, thinking every twinge and cramp might be it, to check for blood every time I use the bathroom. Each day that passes I don’t think about it quite as much, so much so that I am afraid that when it does start it is going to catch me off guard and totally wreck me. I no longer feel pregnant with the exception of slightly sore boobs and a heightened sense of smell. At least I am no longer nauseous, it’s a certain type of cruel to have pregnant sickness and to not actually have a viable pregnancy. So what does one do while they are waiting to miscarry their surprise pregnancy? I am going to go back in time a week ago and do a little recap.

Last Monday was really rough, just raw emotions seeping out and non-stop grief-crying. I managed to get a decent and much needed amount of sleep and woke up Tuesday feeling still raw but a bit better. I wanted to so badly hide under the covers but I couldn’t so I went a little manic and felt like I could do all the things. Got breakfast and a shower, put on real clothes and got my little boys dressed and went tondonall the shopping for my oldest’s 18th birthday celebration the next day. Overspent on all the groceries but decided life is too short. Realized that when I slowed down that is when the tears would start so I kept moving. Talked to my sister and avoided talking about it and kept steering the conversation to how they are all dealing with the flooding (still) from Hurricane Florence. Spent an inordinate amount of time on the requested birthday Apple pie. Baby boy was likely coming down with something so he was extra difficult to get down to sleep and I just wanted to lay there and cry with him. Stayed up late but never felt tired.

Wednesday was 18th birthday, so I spent all day prepping and making all the requested foods plus a ton of extras. Decided we were just throwing a mid-week after school cookout. Put on real clothes again and plastered on a fake smile and took another child to the orthodontist and acted like everything was just fine, all while feeling like a liar inside. Even looked at pictures of my favorite receptionist’ toddler grandson and her DIL’s very pregnant belly and heard all about the impending birth. Fell apart crying later while writing a special note in a birthday card to my oldest. Internally chastised myself that I needed to get it together. Emotionally ate everything and anything and all the things out of celebration and grief. Booked a hotel room for a weekend beach getaway for the family that we had to postpone a couple weeks ago due to the weather. Also booked train tickets to NYC in December for my girls and I for our mother-daughter trip we decided a while ago we wanted to take. Hotel room has been booked, but  it wasn’t set in stone until the train tickets were booked. Had been thinking we might not go, but now there is no reason we shouldn’t.

Thursday and Friday were mostly spent holding a sick little boy and finding indoor things to keep us all occupied in the rain. Exchanged a few messages with the couple people who knew I was pregnant and had to be told the sad news. I think I still have 2 people to tell but I just haven’t had the will to do that. I cuddled my baby boy a lot and relished his little chubby, healing arms around my neck. I tried to get to bed Friday early but Murphy’s Law and the night went terribly wrong. Stressed out because we were having our first GO LIVE day at work with the new system and I had to get there early and deal with a million extra people around.

Encountered car issues trying to leave and after 10 minutes of trying had to quickly switch to another vehicle. Was super annoyed driving in to work and walked in to a ton of people and the supervisor I really don’t get along with. She was supposed to be “hovering” but instead decided to micromanage and otherwise cause a ton of confusion while meddling in our work and trying to “teach” us a system she clearly didn’t understand how to use. And she came in sick with a nasty cough and kept coughing in my ear while yelling commands over my shoulder and I lost it on her. Once she was out of the way I figured out everything fine. But not before (in front of no fewer than 6 of my coworkers and BOSS) does she procede to say that isn’t it about time “I had another baby” and that she thought I “should have an even number of kids” and then tried to call me out for my non-answer as agreement or confirmation. Now, normally I probably would have told everyone what I was going through currently, and it did cross my mind to say, but I do not like this person at all and just feel like it’s none of her damn business what is happening with me, and I realllly wasn’t interested in all the sympathy looks and phrases ainwould get from them if I had told them so I said nothing.

And can I just say how freaking mad it makes me that people just assume because I have five children that I am able to get and stay pregnant easily??? Because it does. And also, I have worked here for nearly 12 years, and spent 8 of them trying to get and stay pregnant, so it is not as if I have had a kid every other year since working here. AND this person herself had experienced recurrent pregnancy losses and ended up with a hysterectomy and no living children of her own, so she should freaking no better. And yes, she is also aware I have lost pregnancies before.

That wouldn’t be the end of my day, though. Not at all. A couple hours later I found myself having to go C-ray a baby is the full term nursery. Now, I go to the NICU all the time and it doesn’t bother me, but something about the FTN just got me. And for a brief moment when I first walked in I was alone with the baby, and I could just feel like I was not going to be able to hold it all together, when bybthe grace of God the nurse walks over and talks to me and so I wasn’t going to have to pick up the squishy newborn or be alone in that moment so I flipped my brain and got the job done but MY GOD my heart.

So now it has been a week, and I am still waiting. Going back and forth between complete sadness and utter mania. Trying to keep things moving, trying to stay busy. Throwing myself in to all sorts of ridiculous projects and things. And in the quiet cracks of life feeling so utterly sad and coming to terms with the ending of this, the ending of this chapter of my life. Because it is all tangled together in this messy web of a surprise pregnancy, acceptance of one kind, and now of a loss that sometimes feels greater than the sum of its parts. Wishing all at once that I would just bleed and get it over with, and also so afraid of that, of closing this last sad chapter, because while I was here, I was still so full of hope that things could somehow turn out differently, for all of us.


Monday, September 24, 2018

empty

Four weeks ago I took a pregnancy test. I never expected it to be positive. In fact, I was taking the test so sure it would be negative, so I could call the hormone specialist I had been working with and tell her I thought some things needed to be adjusted. I had started having hot flashes again, and wicked mood swings and thought it was related to needing to adjust some of the supplements I was on.

A week after that, I got my first beta done and it was 400 something. Lower than I thought it should be but still in the normal range, and as I didn’t know exactly when I ovulated, thought it might be alright. A week after that I had a beta of 3100 something. Adequate increase if you account for the slow-down that happens over 1200. Again, in normal range on the charts. Still kept feeling like the numbers should be higher, but I had some cramping and breast tenderness and lots of nausea so I tried to think good thoughts, but I kept having a nagging feeling.

Another week goes by and I start to really wonder. I don’t feel crampy like I usually would through the first trimester, I have lots of energy, my symptoms aren’t getting worse, and I don’t feel the urge to pee often or have a fullness in my lower pelvis. I try to reason it all away, but it’s always there in the back of my mind. Another week later I have a scan where it’s just the sac, rough measurement of 5 weeks 2 days when I should be at least over 6 weeks, but probably more like 7.

I do the math everywhich way I can to try to make the measurement make sense. Did I find out super early? Maybe I really am only 5 weeks. But I got a positive test 3 weeks ago. I run beta numbers and account for slow down, trying to guess what my beta is. I twist the information every which way but just can’t figure it all out, and finally just give up and settle in the fact that something somewhere is wrong.

Last night a couple hours before I got off work the sono tech and I were talking and she asked about babies, and I told her unneeded a scan because I was pregnant but didn’t think it was ok. The sac was smaller than last week, no measurement but I could tell, and it was empty. Blighted Ovum it’s called. What they thought I had with my last baby which turned out to be tech error. But at this point it’s no error this time. 4 weeks since a positive test, 3 weeks since my 3100 beta. The tech felt awful, but I just knew. She also said it looked like the endometrium was thick and trying to shed, like a section of clot needed to come out. Probably couldn’t from the Progesterone I am on. She gives me a hug. I try and hold it together for my last 2 hours. I text my husband and tell him and ask him to handle telling the kids.

I just want to get to the safety of my car so I can feel the feels. Of course it has to be pouring down rain and lots of city traffic, so I cry as much as I can while trying to somewhat safely drive. The first thought I have is “I don’t get to keep you” which justbrios my heart into two. Then I think about coming home to a house full of people who were so happy and have to look them all in the eye, as if it is somehow my fault. I feel guilty I was ever so shocked or worried the test was positive, that maybe because I initially was a little scared that somehow I caused this to happen.

Before I got into bed I sadly took off my St. Gerard necklace. It was the first night I didn’t say the prayer novena to him. Today has been hard. I really want to just curl up in bed and stay there for a while but I can’t. And I am angry because I am still so nauseated and headachey thanks to these hormones that are still there, since I still have a gestational sac in my uterus. I am very angry I am feeling lousy for nothing. I put off calling my doctor at first. I just didn’t want to face it, and possibly have to put on clothes and go in for an appointment. I didn’t want to do any of that today. When my husband got home I took a nice hot bath, and dozed off in the run for about 20 minutes and it helped me feel a bit better. I called my doctor then, and he was so great about everything, expressing shock and sorrow. He gave me the choice of expected management (waiting to miscarry on my own) or a D&C. I am not super keen on having surgery, so I am opting to wait, but he told me he would do whatever I wanted. If I want this to be over quickly he would schedule me, but understands I might want to wait given I have had 5 uterine surgeries and it’s a little more complicated now. I am keeping my appointment with him in 2 weeks (which was supposed to be my 10 week prenatal appointment) and if I haven’t miscarried by then, a D&C is likely. But if I start bleeding I am to come in sooner so he can monitor everything to make sure I don’t hemorrhage.

And no, he won’t make me come in to verify. He knows I am in the imaging field and have always had my own scans in between appointments with him. I worked with him when I was a student and he was the attending at the same hospital, and we have a long history both personal and professional, and therefore a mutual trust. He knows I wouldn’t call him about this if I wasn’t sure.

So for now I am going to feel all the feels and just wait and pray I miscarry on my own. And in the meantime try to come to terms with this unexpected pregnancy and loss. Tonight I am just so very sad, although I can’t help but somehow at the same time feel lucky, because just down the road my dear friend is deciding on experimental treatments in a foreign country so she can save her life.

Monday, September 17, 2018

Stripped

I am feeling very stripped down and raw today. This post is going to be very honest. It is possible it may contain some triggering things, just in case you aren’t  in a good place to keep reading.

-In late spring we finished our attic and began the process of moving all of  our baby things up there, along with bins of my maternity clothes and anything extra that we could. Some things wouldn’t fit due to the small attic opening, but we did what we could. I tuned 40 and mentally started to move on from this life, trying not to sit in thought about it for too long because it is a very difficult thing for me to think too hard about. I started trying to process all of my first last’s that were happening every day. At some point I finally took all of my nursing bras out of my drawer and started finally wearing my old, regular ones again. It actually felt really good to do this.

-This summer we dealt with the most stressful situation ever, and that took so much out of me. It took me a very long time to even come to terms and some inner peace about what was happening and what it all meant for us. I don’t know a time I have ever been more on edge and physically sick from stress for such an extended period of time. I turned inside myself in a way I don’t think I have before. Around the time this situation was coming to a head and had not quite ended, and on the tail end of just coming back from burying my sister’s dad, I found out I was pregnant, incredibly unexpectedly.

-Finding out I was pregnant was a complete shock, and I almost didn’t have the mental capacity to process it, nor the emotional reserves to deal with it. It took me a while to be able to even wrap my head around it. I was scared, because our terrible situation was still not resolved, and I honestly had moments where I was seriously wondering what I was going to do. I had no idea how to handle this too. I just couldn’t come to terms with this. Not only that, but I don’t  even know when/how it happened in the first place. I coped with stress in unhealthy ways when I was away for the funeral, the stress was physically making me sick, and we use non-sperm-friendly lube. The timing of sex was also during my period so I was really puzzled, and I had been eating ibuprofen like candy for cramps and a knee injury.

-I didn’t want to tell anyone at first. After a few days of feeling turned upside down, my husband started to tell people. I only told my sister. I felt undeserving, I still do. I was still living in disbelief and utter panic. Because of everything else that was also still going on, I kept feeling anxious and as if the other shoe was going to drop at any moment. I started praying the novena I prayed everyday to the patron saint of expectant mothers that this baby would “see the light of day”. Once my husband told the older kids, I started wearing the necklace that represents that saint. I still kept the news to myself. I was taking my vitamins and got my progesterone and did the requisite serial betas and other early blood work which all looked good, despite me feeling like it wouldn’t be. I had a couple small symptoms but nothing to make me feel like any of this was going in the right direction.

-I reluctantly made my first doctors appointment, feeling so fearful, like I’m not really pregnant and I am going to go and look like an idiot. Normally I would have had multiple ultrasounds at work but I am so damn scared this time, like I am going to get devastating news while at work. Logging in to see my second beta was panic attack inducing. I started thinking about all worse-case scenario things that could happen at each stage, and got myself all tangled up in terrible thoughts about not wanting to go through another C-section procedure. All of this has been in my own head, I haven’t dared share any of this. Every single time I go to the bathroom I expect to see blood. I feel like I am projecting all of these worse case scenario things so that when the inevitable happens, I would have seen it coming and not be so taken by surprise. I refuse to engage in any hopeful, happy baby talk. I feel emotionally needy and vulnerable in a way that is very foreign to me.

-Meanwhile, my husband has told everyone it seems, and one person in particular who has made sure that everyone I know now knows. Despite my terrible feelings of doom and not wanting to tell people. Which proves that even husbands who have walked pregnancy loss with you don’t really understand the feelings and the repercussions, even years later. I don’t know what I am going to do when my phone starts blowing up with messages.

-This weekend I broke down and had a quick scan with less than hopeful results...sizes and dates don’t quite match up and so far there is no heartbeat or anything to be seen inside the sac, on the day when it had been 3 weeks since my first positive test and one week since my good second beta. So much ambiguity...tilted uterus, quick scan, questionable tech skills...I have not shared this information with anyone. Although what my beta should be about now, what we saw might make sense....the dates and whatnot don’t seem to so I am still in limbo, only worse because now there is some confirmation my feelings might not be so crazy after all. Hoping to keep myself together enough to make it to my doctors appointment in a couple weeks and find out for certain.

-Right as I was getting the information regarding my scan, I was also receiving some other devastating information about a close friend of mine. A rare cancer she was diagnosed with 3 years ago on her 40th birthday has spread to her lungs and brain and spine. I have known  her for over 20 years...our 4 girls are all very close in age...it’s just the most heartbreaking news one can even imagine. She is being surrounded by prayer and love, but everyone knows any treatments are just buying her time. As I thought about her and her family, I couldn’t help but feel like I couldn’t  possibly have any good news regarding this pregnancy when she was living such horrible news. I feel like there is no way it’s possible that during her 40th year she got a cancer diagnosis and during my 40th year I get a healthy pregnancy. She is also someone part of this Ali community, having experienced several pregnancy losses herself over the years. Someone who desperately wanted more children than she ended up with.

-My oldest daughter also came home with her first broken heart this weekend. My heart has been working overtime, and the tears just keep flowing.

-All of this news prompted me to look through old photos, the ones taken on real film before digital took over. I found lots of great old pictures of us before marriage, before kids, when we were all just starting out. I have them set aside, to make copies and get to her, as she is a big traditional scrapbooker. I have been trying to figure out what I can do for her that won’t be intrusive but be totally helpful. Our circles of people around us are much different now, and in the bigger picture I am not sure where I fit in exactly. Although I think maybe in times like these is doesn’t really matter.

-In all those pictures I found one of my 3rd Baby and I, my first son, in recovery with him on my chest, my chin resting on his head. And that picture that I haven’t seen in many years just cut a huge hole into my heart, and all my insides spilled out. And I sobbed so damn hard. And today I held my youngest and just cried on his head, tracing his sweet still-Baby features, while my heart just throbbed. Because I finally realized where all my fear is coming from, from wanting and needing these moments to never stop. And images of that picture of me and my son flashed through my mind, and I realize that I want that moment again. But I don’t think I am going to have that this time. And if that is the case, if that is what it turns out to be then I am going to make sure there’s is a permanent way of making sure this never happens again. That I have to protect my heart and try to repair some of the damage this has caused.

Below is the picture of my first son and I that has gutted my heart, and the picture of my sweet friend and I, a long, long time ago.




Monday, August 27, 2018

Grief

Grief is not linear. That is a statement we hear over and over again on these blogs, and it is so true. It is very easy to bounce around in the various stages of grief even years after the event. Sometimes the grief seems to fade, only to swoop back in and draw you under out of nowhere.

I had been thinking about my dad a lot this summer. Triggered I think by the stressful situation we are going through, wishing he were still here because then I wouldn’t feel so stressed and worried. When he was around I always felt safe and never worried, because I knew he would make sure I was taken care of. There are so many ways grief hits you, but I couldn’t help but think of all the things that wouldn’t have happened if my dad hadn’t died. This situation we are in now would never have happened because the events that lead up to it would never have happened. It’s the butterfly effect on a grand scale. I had been feeling all those grief feelings for a while and it was all leading up to something. The universe was putting things in play.

The day after I retuned from vacation I got a message that my sister’s Dad had gotten suddenly ill. He had been unwell for a while but the latest news had been positive, but he had taken a turn. My sister is the closet person in the world to me. Although she is 9 years older, she has always been my person, and I hers. We have been through every major life event together. She gave me tough love when I needed it, and I tried to help her have some grit. There aren’t many flights to where she lives and it’s an all day drive. I had a shift on Sunday and I was about to get coverage when he seemed to get better so I was told to wait. My daughter and I had been fruit picking all day and ended up with heat exhaustion so I was down and out for a couple hours. By the time things took a turn for the worse it was late into the night and no way for me to get there quickly and I also had to work my shift, but I kept in contact with everyone there so I was up all night with them. My heart just broke as my sister had to help make those final decisions for his care (Please Everyone have an advanced directive. It is SO important.) He passed away the next morning.

In between this time I felt like I knew what was happening so I told my husband we needed to make a plan because I had a feeling I was going to need to leave to go to her. Coming back from vacation I was afraid there was going to be an issue, but he told me to just go to her, he would handle things. He may not have known how to be there for me when my own father passed away, but he has learned enough about me to understand my need to be there for those certain people in my life and didn’t even question anything. One thing my father’s death did for me was gain so much empathy. I got that from him.

The day before I told my mom I thought she should leave to go and we got in a fight about it because she didn’t feel it was her place to be there (citing a divorce that happened the better part of  a half a century ago) and I argued that we needed to be there for my sister, that was all that mattered. My heart was already breaking for her because I know what that feels like. I also did a great deal of comforting my niece. She’s 25 but has never seen anyone sick that way and hooked up to all the monitors and didn’t understand things that were happening, all the while trying to stay strong for her mom and her younger siblings.

That was always my role every since I am remember...being the strong one, being the rock. When my sister’s Nana was sick I was pretty young. I remember going with my sister to visit her and holding her hand when my sister felt to sad or scared to. When my uncle was battling leukemia when I was in high school I was there through all of it, holing up my mom and my grandmother. When my own grandmother was ill, I was there translating medical terminology to everyone else, while I was still in high school, holding my grandmother for tests and helping in ways that were way beyond my years. When both grandparents passed away I held up my mom and my younger cousins. Even when my dad was sick, my own grief was tempered by the role I had to play in being the rock for my mom. In quiet corners my sister held me up so I could have some wherewithal to get my mom through it. And now with this, I held up my nieces and nephews and sister, all while feeling these huge waves of grief for the loss I knew and was now watching someone I loved deeply feel. I didn’t have any words other than “I am so sorry.” But I guess that is the truest life lesson...love hard and show up for the people you love when they need you. Just be there. I was sad for my sister and her family, but also for myself. For the dad I had lost and for the man that helped raised my sister who always treated me like family and never made me feel like I was only a “half”.

My grown nephew found me when when I first got there. We stopped to get groceries for the house after my niece picked me up from the airport, and my nephew found us in the middle of Aldi. He grabbed me in a big hug and cried on my shoulder  thanking me for coming and saying he was so glad I was there. I don’t think he had been able to show his grief until I was there to let him. So we stood embracing and crying in the middle of the store because that is life sometimes.

I learned so many things on this trip. I learned things about why my mom is the way she is, and the secrets she kept to protect my sister. I now hold the secrets because I guess sometimes things pile up on you and after so many years you have to let them go somewhere. I learned none of us have recovered from my father’s death, just some show it in quiet ways, like my brother in law who still sits in my dad’s old car from time to time because it smells like him. I learned that sacrifices we make for our children sometimes slowly kill us. I learned more about who my mom is deep down. I think I might have also earned a deeper respect from my mom who has treated me differently since she saw me drop everything and come take over and take care of everyone and everything, and how much my sister needed that.  She raised us all to never be ones to ask for help and be needy, but she also raised us to love so fiercely and protectively.

I sat with my sister on the deck of her Dad’s house stroking her hair and just letting her talk and cry. I didn’t have to say anything to her because we know the grief we both sit in. For a while now every time I would miss my dad I would text her and tell her to give her dad a hug for me. The universe sets us up in the strangest of ways. My grief allowed her to be more loving in her father’s last months.

Monday, August 6, 2018

Vacation

so we’re on vacation this week. Well, as much of a vacation as it can be when you quite literally pack your entire house into 2 vehicles, drive about 3 hours away to the beach, unpack and do all the same stuff there for 7 days. I joke, but it’s true. It’s not exactly the relaxing sort of vacation one really needs, but a vacation it is and we are so fortunate to be able to do this every year.

I do have to say that vacations with a large family feel sort of like a Chevy Chase vacation. Everything feels sort of chaotic and such a mess and a cluster just trying to do anything at all, all together and timely. No one magically behaves or gets along just because we happen to be on vacation. It’s a comedy of errors, for sure.

We have certain things we do every year that are tradition: feeding the fish in the huge pond in the golf course just outside our door, feeding the squirrels that are super friendly and hang out on our deck, feeding the local family of ducks, visiting the craft fair that is the first Saturday in August and always falls on our weeek down here, of course the beach and the boardwalk, and the rides at the end of the boardwalk.

Oh, the rides. This is one part of vacation that I really hate. The boardwalk rides have been there forever. There is a huge semi-enclosed space of all the kiddie rides, and it is loud, and hot, and feels very germy and dirty to me. We started going many years ago, and the kids love it,  but it’s al just too much for me. I hate being hot. I hate being in that kind of a crowd. I hate leaving feeling way over-stimulated. I used to love amusement parks, but now I can’t even tolerate a merry-go-round. Thankfully, my husband has some weird attachment to the rides at the end of the boardwalk and decided a couple years ago that I didn’t have to go with them anymore. I don’t even feel bad about it, because I literally do every other thing they ever want to do, but it’s my vacation too. And lest anyone thing I get off easy, it just means I’m available to cook dinner so it’s ready when everyone else gets back home!

Monday, July 30, 2018

Splitting the bill

I recently had a conversation with my teen about etiquette and being a good friend vs being taken advantage of. When her and her friends go out, I noticed she was paying the whole amount on her bank card, so I wanted to ask. At first she was saying that everyone would give her cash and she just used her card “to make it easier”, but then after talking more found out that one girl in particular would always order way more than she had cash to pay, and then act like she had no idea when the check came. I told her she must put a stop to this because that isn’t fair, and if it was one time ok, but if it happened every time she needed to talk to this friend.

Whenever my friends and I go out, we usually all tally up our portion and pay separately. Actually for years when 3 of my high school friends would go out, one girl would get the check and do the math for us so we would know what we owed, and then write charge amounts and last digits of credit card numbers on the check so the server could run correct amounts for us. Nowadays, I have one friend likes to use her rewards card so I will give her the cash if I have it and she will pay, but I always cover my share and tip. Another friend and I will sometimes take turns paying the check because it’s always about the same amount and it’s nice to rotate. It’s nice to know that the next time you go out, you don’t have to worry about it. And if I have the extra money, I like to offer to pay, knowing they will have my back next time.

We do that at work, too. We have a “breakfast club” on Saturdays  and somewhere along the line someone offered to treat everyone and it started a rotation quite naturally. Even though we sometimes have extra or different people who work each weekend, we include everyone and always keep the rotation going. (And we eat in the cafeteria so it’s not that expensive even if it’s 6 people). It’s cool because sometimes someone you bought breakfast for once happens to be working again, they always offer to pay, so no one takes advantage and it’s nice to be able to make someone’s morning. We never argue over who’s turn it is, everyone just sort of knows if it’s been a while since they paid that it’s their turn.

A couple weeks ago 2 of my coworker friends and I  got together for our July birthdays. One of the girls and I have been very close for over a decade and have gone out together before and we each pay our way. Well, this time when the check came this other girl said “Do you want to just split the bill 3 ways? That’s what I like to do”. Which makes sense on the surface. But. I was the only one who didn’t order alcohol, and the one girl had 2 alcoholic drinks, meaning our share wasn’t equal. I chose not to speak up because 1) I work with these people and didn’t want to make a situation awkward 2.) we were celebrating our birthdays, and I wanted to keep it about celebrating each other 3) It wasn’t so much about the money as it was the principle of the idea that splitting 3 ways doesn’t always make sense. 4) It wasn’t an expensive place so it wasn’t that much more money for me to spend. I guess I was immediately conscious of the fact that I didn’t spend as much and was annoyed that she didn’t seem to notice that, but then she did bring a birthday cake for us all and had me take the leftovers home, so how could I really stay mad for long? But I will definitely know that is how this other girl rolls when the check comes if we happen to go out outside of work again.

I did have one awkward experience with a check once. When we moved I used an old realtor friend, and we met for lunch a couple times during the process. She had paid the first time (business expense) but the second time I felt like I should/wanted to pay. She mentioned that the next time we went out it would be her turn to pay, that she owed me lunch. Several weeks later (and about a week before I went on maternity leave) she invited me out again and said she was bringing a girl we used to work with during our waitressing gig (someone who I wasn’t ever super close with or even kept in touch with, but the two of them were/did). I met them thinking it wasn’t my turn to pay (and didn’t have money budgeted to go because of maternity leave). Not only was the meal awkward and un-fun (I had my toddler who decided to not want to behave or eat or otherwise cooperate, and other girl had the most well behaved 1 year old ever) but the food was awful and the whole experience was odd because I really didn’t know this person (She kept talking about someone named Andy and I commented about her stepson and Andy ended up being her brother who they swear I know but I swear I don’t, and I for some reason though the guy she married had a kid) Anyway, the bill came and I didn’t move to pay, and it got weird with this other person looking at me oddly, my friend getting ready to pay, and the other girl fumbling around still looking at me weirdly and saying that our friend shouldn’t pay because it was her birthday the next day (Again, I’m not on Facebook and so I wouldn’t know birthdays like that and also, super pregnant, brain not working to catch the awkward) and so the two of them ended up splitting the check. It wasn’t until I thought about it later I realized how bad I must have looked to this other person, who probably had no idea the other girl had said she would pay next time. And maybe I should have waited to cash in on that when it was just the two of us and not some third person, but again Baby Brain. Anyway, months later when we were going to all 3 get together again I wrote in the group text chain “and I’m pretty sure I owe you all lunch this time” to kind of make up for that and acknowledge that I’m not a cheap ass. We never did end up geting together, but at least I sort of redeemed myself.

How do you work the bill when you go out?