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.
Sunday, October 14, 2018
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
-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.
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