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.

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.

4 comments:

  1. First, I'm glad you doctor just said "I know" and sat with you, without offering solutions or platitudes. How important that acknowledgement is, and how rare.

    It's only been two weeks. Don't beat yourself up for feeling how you are feeling. Yes, other people don't understand, but we get it. Your loss needs to be mourned, and I'm glad you can do that here. Sending hugs.

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  2. Thinking of you -- it's so hard. Loss stays with you, and especially when you hold the cumulative weight of the previous losses and the weight of whether or not you'll have another that you've been expressing since baby boy has been growing... super hard. I'm with Mali--your doctor is a keeper. Such powerful understanding in that "I know" and holding the silence. Sending you love, and hoping the pouring your heart out is helping you.

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  3. I'm so sorry. This feel of deep loss coupled with finding a road forward is so hard. I'm glad you're doctor is being so amazing with you and allowing you to grieve this loss. May others in your life also grant you the grace to grieve this loss. Sending love.

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  4. My heart goes out to you. Loss is so hard. So hard. I'm glad you have this space to pour your heart out in. I'm also glad you have what sounds like a great, compassionate doctor. Big hugs to you.

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