So, Thursday, we did not manage to sneak in any sex. This is in no way surprising, since it is something that we have never attempted in my mother's home in 3 years of marriage and nearly 7 years of togetherness. We did have sex on Friday, though my fertility signs led me to believe that I was probably not fertile anymore, we figured it couldn't hurt.
Imagine my surprise when my temp was a standard 97.1 on Saturday (no temp attempted on Friday before waking at an ungodly hour to mix with humanity in an attempt to get a new tv). Huh, I thought. Oh, well. Cycles are often screwy after a miscarriage. I'll just go ahead and buy some opk's then. It should help with the next fertile patch.
Now, you have to understand that I am not a fan of opk's. While they work beautifully for some folks, they can be hard to interpret, can drive one crazy, and do not guarantee ovulation - only that one of the necessary hormones is present in sufficiently high quantities at that given moment. An LH surge can last anywhere from 12 to 48 hours, thus it is possible to miss a surge entirely or get lots of positives. That of course, can lead to obsession, and none of it means much without a chart, and I never quite understood charting and using opk's as it seemed a waste of money.
But this time, I thought, let's give it a whirl to help me interpret the wackiness that is my chart right now and ease some of the burden. Of course, it's worth noting I splurged and opted to buy the digital kind where you get a blank circle or a smiley face and eliminate the need for interpretation.
I was feeling more wet yesterday - watery to creamy fluid, so I wasn't surprised to see a negative OPK. I was surprised, however, to see a very high temp jump coming after the first solid sleep in three nights.
So maybe I've ovulated then. Tomorrow morning should tell a more complete tale. It's scary how much both DH and I want to be pregnant again, despite the fear. We both confided in each other that we secretly hope it was ovulation and that it worked (though our timing would have been off), because we both want to be able to share good news over the holidays. I've already checked the calendar and have noticed that we might be able to get in for a 6 week u/s before the holidays . . .
I hate that hope, if I'm going to be honest. It only makes everything more disappointing and I'm not very good at not thinking of things like that. I keep trying to focus on the next cycle and how that one will go more smoothly than this one, deflecting that little voice that whispers hopefully in my head. It's not easy, but one look back at the beginning of this month, or hell, the last month, is enough to make my blood run cold in my veins. I fear going through that again.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Thursday, November 27, 2008
The problems with fertility.
I'm really unsure whether or not I'm really fertile. It could be that I am fertile. Certainly, there has been a great deal of fluid, both internally and externally. Wet, stretchy, sinks in water. Cervix has been opening, and was higher and softer than just after the bleeding stopped. There is also a nabothian cyst, which I seem to get near mid-cycle.
But then I have doubts. We've sex every night for the past three nights. Maybe the fluid is just left over semen (though until today, it's lasted all day long). My vagina doesn't feel as wet or lubricated as normal during the fertile phase and I haven't had any sort of ovulatory pain. I know it doesn't happen all the time, but still. And the fluid has slowed down today, and it feel like my cervix moved down. This all confuses me.
It means I'm feeling hesitant about this fertility thing. I know it could be a fertile patch that doesn't end in ovulation, or that I could even have ovulated today. But it's a wee bit frustrating. I really think charting to avoid pregnancy was far easier. I mean, really - if there is any fluid, slap on a condom. Use condom until after 4 days of high temps. No further action really required, you know? GAH.
It's nice to have sex. But it's hard to keep it from turning into ttc sex, you know? Where you have it even when you aren't totally interested, because you might be fertile. We're sort of hovering on the cusp of that now. The frustration I feel with determining fertility status doesn't help. And because we're hitting early sales tomorrow, I won't be able to accurately temp. SUCK.
Ah well.
In other news, Thanksgiving was nice. A little more awkward than I'd thought it would be, with both my parents there - it wasn't that awkward at our house. I guess being in the house she lived in for many years was a little awkward for Mom and Dad both. But I appreciate their efforts.
The tattoo is doing ok; it's sore and definitely has a protective skin. I'm just hoping it doesn't become a hard scab. The dog clawed me good, right over it and OUCH. Good lord that HURT.
Now, I'll be hitting the hay soon, as we intend to try for a new television tomorrow. I am afraid. Very afraid.
But then I have doubts. We've sex every night for the past three nights. Maybe the fluid is just left over semen (though until today, it's lasted all day long). My vagina doesn't feel as wet or lubricated as normal during the fertile phase and I haven't had any sort of ovulatory pain. I know it doesn't happen all the time, but still. And the fluid has slowed down today, and it feel like my cervix moved down. This all confuses me.
It means I'm feeling hesitant about this fertility thing. I know it could be a fertile patch that doesn't end in ovulation, or that I could even have ovulated today. But it's a wee bit frustrating. I really think charting to avoid pregnancy was far easier. I mean, really - if there is any fluid, slap on a condom. Use condom until after 4 days of high temps. No further action really required, you know? GAH.
It's nice to have sex. But it's hard to keep it from turning into ttc sex, you know? Where you have it even when you aren't totally interested, because you might be fertile. We're sort of hovering on the cusp of that now. The frustration I feel with determining fertility status doesn't help. And because we're hitting early sales tomorrow, I won't be able to accurately temp. SUCK.
Ah well.
In other news, Thanksgiving was nice. A little more awkward than I'd thought it would be, with both my parents there - it wasn't that awkward at our house. I guess being in the house she lived in for many years was a little awkward for Mom and Dad both. But I appreciate their efforts.
The tattoo is doing ok; it's sore and definitely has a protective skin. I'm just hoping it doesn't become a hard scab. The dog clawed me good, right over it and OUCH. Good lord that HURT.
Now, I'll be hitting the hay soon, as we intend to try for a new television tomorrow. I am afraid. Very afraid.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Today was a better day!
Can't say good - after all, I am flipping exhausted and I don't feel like I got nearly enough done, but holy hell was I productive today.
That is a good feeling.
I am definitely fertile. So bizarre. We're taking advantage of all the eggwhite fluid, but my temps are so erratic I don't think FF will recognize ovulation if it happens, but we're giving it a go. I find that in the midst of ttc, I am still nervous and frightened, but it's definitely taken a back seat. And the urgency that was there before isn't there anymore. It'll happen when it happens and it is out of my hands. Now, I don't expect that very reasonable line of thinking will always be with me, but it is today, so cheers!
I think the funk of the past few days has been somewhat tied to these increasing signs of fertility. I've been known to get depressed and testy around ovulation and my period. May not be related, but may be after all. One benefit of charting, no?
And, the moment you've all been waiting for - I did get the tattoo done. It took forever. They were oddly busy. The guy who did my other tattoos is no longer there, but this guy was terrific and did a good job. I will post a pic when it's healed up. It's already stopped stinging, which is nice. It hurt to get done - more than the other did, but it's small so I'm not surprised it's already stopped stinging.
It looks exactly like the chickie marker on thebump tickers. Only bigger - a little larger than the size of a nickel. It's about 2-3 inches down from my palm - or about three fingers from my palm to the top of the chickie, on the left side.
Getting it done was the right decision. I sat there waiting and spent a lot of time thinking about Chickadee. Friday will be 4 weeks since we learned Chickadee was gone, and it's amazing how differently I feel 4 weeks later. I know now I will always miss Chickadee, and that that is ok. I will always wonder about him/her - what they would have been like, looked like, done with their lives. But I do feel now that Chickadee will always be with me - tattoo or no. A part of me will always long for my baby, but I do have some peace now.
Also helping my mood some - sex baby. Getting laid has done wonders for my self-esteem and for my connection with DH. We are definitely enjoying that part of ttc again. Speaking of . . . there is a Spurs game on now - and half time should be coming up . . . I think I have plans. ; )
That is a good feeling.
I am definitely fertile. So bizarre. We're taking advantage of all the eggwhite fluid, but my temps are so erratic I don't think FF will recognize ovulation if it happens, but we're giving it a go. I find that in the midst of ttc, I am still nervous and frightened, but it's definitely taken a back seat. And the urgency that was there before isn't there anymore. It'll happen when it happens and it is out of my hands. Now, I don't expect that very reasonable line of thinking will always be with me, but it is today, so cheers!
I think the funk of the past few days has been somewhat tied to these increasing signs of fertility. I've been known to get depressed and testy around ovulation and my period. May not be related, but may be after all. One benefit of charting, no?
And, the moment you've all been waiting for - I did get the tattoo done. It took forever. They were oddly busy. The guy who did my other tattoos is no longer there, but this guy was terrific and did a good job. I will post a pic when it's healed up. It's already stopped stinging, which is nice. It hurt to get done - more than the other did, but it's small so I'm not surprised it's already stopped stinging.
It looks exactly like the chickie marker on thebump tickers. Only bigger - a little larger than the size of a nickel. It's about 2-3 inches down from my palm - or about three fingers from my palm to the top of the chickie, on the left side.
Getting it done was the right decision. I sat there waiting and spent a lot of time thinking about Chickadee. Friday will be 4 weeks since we learned Chickadee was gone, and it's amazing how differently I feel 4 weeks later. I know now I will always miss Chickadee, and that that is ok. I will always wonder about him/her - what they would have been like, looked like, done with their lives. But I do feel now that Chickadee will always be with me - tattoo or no. A part of me will always long for my baby, but I do have some peace now.
Also helping my mood some - sex baby. Getting laid has done wonders for my self-esteem and for my connection with DH. We are definitely enjoying that part of ttc again. Speaking of . . . there is a Spurs game on now - and half time should be coming up . . . I think I have plans. ; )
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Feeling alone today.
I don't know what it is or why. Maybe some mild depression, as I do have that now and again.
But I feel really separated and really alone right now. I feel like I'm constantly saying the wrong thing and doing the wrong thing. I feel down on myself for things not being perfect and feel like I could be and should be doing better. I'm clearly being overly sensitive. A comment that was justified really hurt my feelings today.
I'm questioning a lot today, and not finding satisfactory answers. I just don't feel like a particularly good person or like a particularly nice person, though I do generally strive to be those things. I am just feeling I'm in a good place right now.
I plan to have my tattoo done tomorrow, but after telling a friend, they said something that shook me and is making me question my decision. Now I feel uncertain, and that is contributing to the funk I feel tonight.
Just a lot of not very happy thoughts swirling around and no one to express them to, I guess.
But I feel really separated and really alone right now. I feel like I'm constantly saying the wrong thing and doing the wrong thing. I feel down on myself for things not being perfect and feel like I could be and should be doing better. I'm clearly being overly sensitive. A comment that was justified really hurt my feelings today.
I'm questioning a lot today, and not finding satisfactory answers. I just don't feel like a particularly good person or like a particularly nice person, though I do generally strive to be those things. I am just feeling I'm in a good place right now.
I plan to have my tattoo done tomorrow, but after telling a friend, they said something that shook me and is making me question my decision. Now I feel uncertain, and that is contributing to the funk I feel tonight.
Just a lot of not very happy thoughts swirling around and no one to express them to, I guess.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Grief.
It really does come about in different ways and we really all do deal differently with it. It surprised me how I dealt with the grief of losing Chickadee. The anger attached to it and the bitterness I felt, which were uncharacteristic for me, took me by surprise and made me feel badly about myself. The amount of hurt and sadness I felt and the depth of my grief for something that I had seemed to expect surprised me.
I felt often that I ought to feel another way; when I was sad, that I should move on already, when I was happy, that I wasn't mourning properly. I tried for about a week to ten days to force myself to believe I was doing ok. When I finally allowed myself to not be ok and told others I wasn't, I was suddenly free to be not ok and that, I think, is when I finally began to heal.
These days, I'm feeling normal. Apprehensive about ttc again, of course, and terrified about another positive, but doing ok. I mean, there are things which are sensitive, and I feel stabs at the oddest times, but nearly a month after losing Chickadee, I feel like I can talk about it objectively and that I'm not wearing Chickadee as an albatross around my neck. I am doing ok.
I do think a piece of me is gone or altered forever by this grief. That there will be times in which I feel sadness and grieve for my lost child. There is a piece of me that will always belong to Chickadee, but I do think I can move on from the loss.
Not everyone is the same. I didn't feel this way the first time, this absolute devastation and desolation. I don't know how I will feel if this happens again in the future. I just know that I can survive. Maybe I won't be the same, maybe I will have more scars, but my grief is not all encompassing; it doesn't dictate how my life will be lived. It just is, a piece of me now, an acknowledgement of something lost, never to return. There is a peacefulness now. I begin to feel as if God and I might find our way back again.
I felt often that I ought to feel another way; when I was sad, that I should move on already, when I was happy, that I wasn't mourning properly. I tried for about a week to ten days to force myself to believe I was doing ok. When I finally allowed myself to not be ok and told others I wasn't, I was suddenly free to be not ok and that, I think, is when I finally began to heal.
These days, I'm feeling normal. Apprehensive about ttc again, of course, and terrified about another positive, but doing ok. I mean, there are things which are sensitive, and I feel stabs at the oddest times, but nearly a month after losing Chickadee, I feel like I can talk about it objectively and that I'm not wearing Chickadee as an albatross around my neck. I am doing ok.
I do think a piece of me is gone or altered forever by this grief. That there will be times in which I feel sadness and grieve for my lost child. There is a piece of me that will always belong to Chickadee, but I do think I can move on from the loss.
Not everyone is the same. I didn't feel this way the first time, this absolute devastation and desolation. I don't know how I will feel if this happens again in the future. I just know that I can survive. Maybe I won't be the same, maybe I will have more scars, but my grief is not all encompassing; it doesn't dictate how my life will be lived. It just is, a piece of me now, an acknowledgement of something lost, never to return. There is a peacefulness now. I begin to feel as if God and I might find our way back again.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Mixed emotions.
First, my good friend, often known at BlairWaldorf has had a miscarriage. My heart is breaking for her. She was originally due about 5 days after I was, and we went through 6 weeks of pregnancy together. She went through another 3 without me. It is worse for her; she saw her Harpie twice, with beautiful strong heartbeats. Miscarriage is not something I would wish on anyone prior to going through it, but having been through it, I ache for her and Harpie, and would do a lot to make it better or not true.
I'm finding myself at a loss for words that my friends must have felt; I've been reduced to saying the dreaded words "I'm sorry" and knowing how inadequate they really are.
My thoughts and prayers are with Blair and Nate and Harpie. I pray that God brings you some peace.
Second, which seems so frivolous in light of these things - my body seems already to be gearing up for ovulation. I only stopped spotting 2-3 days ago, and already have a great deal of very, very wet creamy fluid. I expect it to be watery quickly, and from there, of course, is fertile egg white cm.
I'm not sure I'm ready for this. I know we don't have to go ahead, and I know that I may not ovulate at all, but this is somewhat unnerving. We haven't even managed to have sex yet at all, let along jumping right back into ttc sex. I'm feeling mixed up about ttc again. I just know I don't want to go through all the shit again. I am really afraid of seeing a positive test again, but likewise, as soon as we start ttc again, I am afraid of not seeing a positive. It's just all sorts of mixed up.
Both Dh and I have been testy this weekend. Some cleaning got done, and shopping was done and the chocolate mousse was made. I need to buckle down and do my share of cleaning tomorrow. I did a bit today, but I am responsible for the bathrooms, so they need to be done. Fun times. I wish I had some certainty about things and I just don't. It's hard not to think about things like the fact that I should have been 13 weeks on Thursday, and 17 at Christmas. It's all just . . . depressing.
I'm finding myself at a loss for words that my friends must have felt; I've been reduced to saying the dreaded words "I'm sorry" and knowing how inadequate they really are.
My thoughts and prayers are with Blair and Nate and Harpie. I pray that God brings you some peace.
Second, which seems so frivolous in light of these things - my body seems already to be gearing up for ovulation. I only stopped spotting 2-3 days ago, and already have a great deal of very, very wet creamy fluid. I expect it to be watery quickly, and from there, of course, is fertile egg white cm.
I'm not sure I'm ready for this. I know we don't have to go ahead, and I know that I may not ovulate at all, but this is somewhat unnerving. We haven't even managed to have sex yet at all, let along jumping right back into ttc sex. I'm feeling mixed up about ttc again. I just know I don't want to go through all the shit again. I am really afraid of seeing a positive test again, but likewise, as soon as we start ttc again, I am afraid of not seeing a positive. It's just all sorts of mixed up.
Both Dh and I have been testy this weekend. Some cleaning got done, and shopping was done and the chocolate mousse was made. I need to buckle down and do my share of cleaning tomorrow. I did a bit today, but I am responsible for the bathrooms, so they need to be done. Fun times. I wish I had some certainty about things and I just don't. It's hard not to think about things like the fact that I should have been 13 weeks on Thursday, and 17 at Christmas. It's all just . . . depressing.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Spotting and weird temps continue.
It's been two weeks since I passed everything from the misoprostol.
The spotting is much, much lighter, sometimes none or only a bit. The good news is that it does seem to be in a pattern that is disappearing. My cervix also seems to be firming up and closing up, which would indeed be good news. The only weird thing is my temps. Since I started temping again, I had a flat 97.3 for four days. 97.3 is a borderline temp for me. Usually indicates a post-o temp, but not always. I've seen it during my period and pre-O in a wacky cycle. Then it dropped to a whopping 97.2 and then back up to a 97.4 which is a definitely a post-O temp.
So yeah. Not much to say. Life is continuing on. Definitely more good hours than bad. There have been bad hours, but it's easier each day. It's still hard to believe that I would have been 12 weeks today, emerging from first tri, hearing a heartbeat and relaxing just a little, beginning to really enjoy the time with Chickadee. It's hard to imagine it, now. My body feels so normal again.
It is curious, isn't it, how so many big important things in our lives leave so little physical impact? Our marriages, our bonds, our friendships, all these things. No physical connections to our husbands or wives or our parents or siblings. Nothing to say - we are tied together forever, whether we want to be or not.
The physical really is a short term sort of thing. But there is so much that is outside the physical. I know attraction and endorphins and things are physical - but there is intangible as well. So what does that mean for us in the end?
The spotting is much, much lighter, sometimes none or only a bit. The good news is that it does seem to be in a pattern that is disappearing. My cervix also seems to be firming up and closing up, which would indeed be good news. The only weird thing is my temps. Since I started temping again, I had a flat 97.3 for four days. 97.3 is a borderline temp for me. Usually indicates a post-o temp, but not always. I've seen it during my period and pre-O in a wacky cycle. Then it dropped to a whopping 97.2 and then back up to a 97.4 which is a definitely a post-O temp.
So yeah. Not much to say. Life is continuing on. Definitely more good hours than bad. There have been bad hours, but it's easier each day. It's still hard to believe that I would have been 12 weeks today, emerging from first tri, hearing a heartbeat and relaxing just a little, beginning to really enjoy the time with Chickadee. It's hard to imagine it, now. My body feels so normal again.
It is curious, isn't it, how so many big important things in our lives leave so little physical impact? Our marriages, our bonds, our friendships, all these things. No physical connections to our husbands or wives or our parents or siblings. Nothing to say - we are tied together forever, whether we want to be or not.
The physical really is a short term sort of thing. But there is so much that is outside the physical. I know attraction and endorphins and things are physical - but there is intangible as well. So what does that mean for us in the end?
Monday, November 17, 2008
Thank God for friends.
I just wanted to acknowledge what wonderful friends I have. My friends have been so supportive and so available and helpful to me throughout this ordeal. It's made things so much easier to be able to talk and vent and ramble and scream when I need to and it's been so much easier to be quiet and alone when I need to.
Thank you all. Thank you for your patience and your understanding. Thank you for your love and your prayers and your caring and kindness.
Thank you for reaching out to me nearly three weeks later and letting me talk through things, even when I sound irrational or crazy.
Thank you for the support and love and the urging to be kind to myself.
I couldn't get through this all without you and my family. Thank you, over and over. It is humbling, and it is one way I can say I have been abundantly blessed.
Thank you all. Thank you for your patience and your understanding. Thank you for your love and your prayers and your caring and kindness.
Thank you for reaching out to me nearly three weeks later and letting me talk through things, even when I sound irrational or crazy.
Thank you for the support and love and the urging to be kind to myself.
I couldn't get through this all without you and my family. Thank you, over and over. It is humbling, and it is one way I can say I have been abundantly blessed.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
It's been a rough day.
I think I've bitched and moaned about it elsewhere enough that I don't feel like reliving it here again.
Things that have gone through my mind today include:
I don't want to live anymore (it's not as suicidal as it sounds, I promise).
I feel like a failure.
I hate myself for not being over this already.
I hate myself for being angry/bitter/sad/selfish/petty.
I hate God a lot right now.
I'm angry. I'm angry at everything, and I'm angry at my husband for reasons I can't fully articulate.
I just want to go somewhere or be alone for awhile and just scream at the top of my lungs, as loud as I can for as long as I can and just keep doing that until I collapse in a heap of sore-throated exhaustion, because that seems to be the only thing I can think of that might help get the pain and the anger out. But I can't.
I'm so concerned with being solicitous of other people's feelings, I think it's damaged my own healing. I hate to cry in front of my husband or be sad, because he worries. I tell my mom and my coworkers I'm doing as well as can be expected and change the subject. I get down on myself for feeling less than what I think I should feel for other people and for feeling any negative emotion about or around them.
I wish I could scream. And cry. Just for a few hours. Just be by myself and do something to let it all out, all the jumble of negative things in my head. I want to scream and kick and punch and shriek out my anger. Instead, I'm here, sitting quietly. Smiling valiantly and doing my best to reassure my husband that his wife is not insane. I feel insane. I feel sometimes like I'm going crazy because of all the the things I feel inside. And the further away I get from it the less I feel I can talk about it. Because why am I not doing better and feeling better? Nobody wants to hear this crazy rambling and negativity spewing out of me. I feel normal sometimes, and other times I feel like I'm going to burst with the amount of stuff I'm swallowing down.
I just want to lay down and be done with it all. I'm so tired of this. That's all I keep saying. I'm so tired. I'm so tired. I'm so tired. What I mean and can't say is I'm so MAD. I'm so SAD. I'm so BETRAYED. I'm so CHEATED. I'm so EXHAUSTED. I'm so UNHAPPY. I'm so OVER THIS BULLSHIT. I'm so FUCKED. I am never going to be normal again. I will never be whole again.
Things that have gone through my mind today include:
I don't want to live anymore (it's not as suicidal as it sounds, I promise).
I feel like a failure.
I hate myself for not being over this already.
I hate myself for being angry/bitter/sad/selfish/petty.
I hate God a lot right now.
I'm angry. I'm angry at everything, and I'm angry at my husband for reasons I can't fully articulate.
I just want to go somewhere or be alone for awhile and just scream at the top of my lungs, as loud as I can for as long as I can and just keep doing that until I collapse in a heap of sore-throated exhaustion, because that seems to be the only thing I can think of that might help get the pain and the anger out. But I can't.
I'm so concerned with being solicitous of other people's feelings, I think it's damaged my own healing. I hate to cry in front of my husband or be sad, because he worries. I tell my mom and my coworkers I'm doing as well as can be expected and change the subject. I get down on myself for feeling less than what I think I should feel for other people and for feeling any negative emotion about or around them.
I wish I could scream. And cry. Just for a few hours. Just be by myself and do something to let it all out, all the jumble of negative things in my head. I want to scream and kick and punch and shriek out my anger. Instead, I'm here, sitting quietly. Smiling valiantly and doing my best to reassure my husband that his wife is not insane. I feel insane. I feel sometimes like I'm going crazy because of all the the things I feel inside. And the further away I get from it the less I feel I can talk about it. Because why am I not doing better and feeling better? Nobody wants to hear this crazy rambling and negativity spewing out of me. I feel normal sometimes, and other times I feel like I'm going to burst with the amount of stuff I'm swallowing down.
I just want to lay down and be done with it all. I'm so tired of this. That's all I keep saying. I'm so tired. I'm so tired. I'm so tired. What I mean and can't say is I'm so MAD. I'm so SAD. I'm so BETRAYED. I'm so CHEATED. I'm so EXHAUSTED. I'm so UNHAPPY. I'm so OVER THIS BULLSHIT. I'm so FUCKED. I am never going to be normal again. I will never be whole again.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Interrupting this sadness for something good.
If you like country music (or just good, fun music), then you need to check out Lady Antebellum.
Specifically, you need to hear Love Don't Live Here Anymore and Lookin' For a Good Time.
They may be found on YouTube. Go now.
Specifically, you need to hear Love Don't Live Here Anymore and Lookin' For a Good Time.
They may be found on YouTube. Go now.
There are times when I am sad.
And it happens at the most inappropriate times, which makes it worse.
I saw four new BFPs today between various boards. How exciting for them! I was thrilled for them and immediately had tears in my eyes. And they weren't tears of happiness. They were tears of sadness. I should be 11 weeks pregnant, nearly out of the first tri, hearing a h/b. Not sitting here for the first day without a pad in two weeks, arguing with myself about trying to conceive again.
I feel so sad some days. I'm not over this loss and I don't know if I ever will be, and that also makes me sad. I feel terrible for feeling sorry for myself when confronted with someone else's good news, but I do. It's awful. So selfish and self-centered. The world has continued to turn and good things have happened to other people. I just don't know how to get the point that my world is still turning.
Things are better in so many ways, and in a relatively short time period. I mean, I can laugh regularly now, I can think about a baby again, I am not sobbing for hours on end. But then it hits me and I'm a mess inside for awhile. It wasn't supposed to be this way. We were supposed to be ordering our Christmas cards soon, with our announcements. And now I'm uninterested because I don't want to have to decide which picture we'll actually use.
I feel the urge to try again, at least I do about 65% of the time. But I don't know why that is. I mean, I'm still scared shitless about seeing a positive test. At the same time though . . . I know I want a baby. I want my baby in my arms. I want to be a mother with a child, instead of a childless mother. But then I wonder if it's not just some sort of twisted competitiveness, especially with this recent wave of BFPs. Is it just my own anger over my miscarriage reacting like it's some sort of challenge, as if I'll show them (show them what? who is them anyway?) and I'll get pregnant again.
And honestly, I know I'm being motivated by the urge to take advantage of whatever small advantage we might have in this cycle after miscarriage. But I don't want to be pregnant again so near the holidays (let alone go through another miscarriage at Christmas), and I'm afraid that in trying I will set myself up for even greater disappointment and worry if it doesn't happen. And I didn't want to be heavily pregnant in a Texas summer and I didn't want a baby in August. That doesn't even touch on the fears about another pregnancy and whether I'll ever be able to carry to term. I don't really feel like I have dealt with this m/c and I don't feel beyond it yet, and that weighs on me.
Anyway, this is an afternoon in which I feel sober and melancholy.
I saw four new BFPs today between various boards. How exciting for them! I was thrilled for them and immediately had tears in my eyes. And they weren't tears of happiness. They were tears of sadness. I should be 11 weeks pregnant, nearly out of the first tri, hearing a h/b. Not sitting here for the first day without a pad in two weeks, arguing with myself about trying to conceive again.
I feel so sad some days. I'm not over this loss and I don't know if I ever will be, and that also makes me sad. I feel terrible for feeling sorry for myself when confronted with someone else's good news, but I do. It's awful. So selfish and self-centered. The world has continued to turn and good things have happened to other people. I just don't know how to get the point that my world is still turning.
Things are better in so many ways, and in a relatively short time period. I mean, I can laugh regularly now, I can think about a baby again, I am not sobbing for hours on end. But then it hits me and I'm a mess inside for awhile. It wasn't supposed to be this way. We were supposed to be ordering our Christmas cards soon, with our announcements. And now I'm uninterested because I don't want to have to decide which picture we'll actually use.
I feel the urge to try again, at least I do about 65% of the time. But I don't know why that is. I mean, I'm still scared shitless about seeing a positive test. At the same time though . . . I know I want a baby. I want my baby in my arms. I want to be a mother with a child, instead of a childless mother. But then I wonder if it's not just some sort of twisted competitiveness, especially with this recent wave of BFPs. Is it just my own anger over my miscarriage reacting like it's some sort of challenge, as if I'll show them (show them what? who is them anyway?) and I'll get pregnant again.
And honestly, I know I'm being motivated by the urge to take advantage of whatever small advantage we might have in this cycle after miscarriage. But I don't want to be pregnant again so near the holidays (let alone go through another miscarriage at Christmas), and I'm afraid that in trying I will set myself up for even greater disappointment and worry if it doesn't happen. And I didn't want to be heavily pregnant in a Texas summer and I didn't want a baby in August. That doesn't even touch on the fears about another pregnancy and whether I'll ever be able to carry to term. I don't really feel like I have dealt with this m/c and I don't feel beyond it yet, and that weighs on me.
Anyway, this is an afternoon in which I feel sober and melancholy.
I've been tagged.
I don't normally do this stuff, but what the hell? I've got time to kill this morning.
I was tagged by biomaj, who can be found here:
http://iambiomaj5.blogspot.com/
Here are the rules:
1. Link to the person who tagged you. (I tried-hope it works!)
2. Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself.
3. Tag 7 random people at the end, and include links to their blogs.
4. Let each person know they've been tagged by leaving a comment on their blogs.
*****
Well, I can tell you I'll violate the last rule or two, because I can't remember that many blogs that haven't been tagged already.
But here are the 7 random facts about me.
1. I am currently listening to the Barenaked Ladies. I adore them.
2. I once made a clerk at a specialty book store literally stare at me with jaw dropped. It was a mystery book store and it's like a slice of heavan on eart. I could read mystery/thrillers all day long. LOVE them. Devour them. Anyway, it was my first time in the store and I was pretty overwhelmed. He was trying to direct me and asked me what I liked to read. I said, "Oh, I love Agatha Christie. So quick and fun." He smiled a little condescendingly at me and said, "Well, the British tea cozies are over here . . ." I then said, "OH yes, and I adore Val McDermid. Her sex crimes are so disturbing and her plots are so beautifully intricate." If you aren't familiar with Val McDermid, her books are utterly haunting, and deal with hardcore sex crimes and serial murderers. And they are utterly brilliant. So basically, it's harder to come up with two complete opposites and this guy's jaw just dropped open and he stared at me.
3. I sometimes think in internet abbreviations. Like I'll think about Dh and call him DH in my head. Awesome.
4. I am very particular about the way I eat my food, especially things like M&Ms. I have to separate them by color and then even them out so there is the same number of each color, then eat them in even numbers. My old boss and friend thought that was SO WEIRD but after three years with me and weekly meetings with a jar of M&Ms there, she now does it too without realizing it. Bwahh haaa haaaa.
5. It's no secret that I am a giant Spurs fan, but it is of note that I do one of two things during games we watch (it's been a bit painful to watch lately) - I knit or I chat with other Spurs fans during games. I'm not sure which makes me a bigger dork.
6. I like to cook and I love to bake but I do neither with any frequency. DH and I made a deal which neither of us have honored but which we both want to work towards, which includes him cleaning up more frequently and me cooking at least twice a week.
7. I have a degree in history, but I work in finance. I can't do math accurately in my head. AWESOME.
I was tagged by biomaj, who can be found here:
http://iambiomaj5.blogspot.com/
Here are the rules:
1. Link to the person who tagged you. (I tried-hope it works!)
2. Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself.
3. Tag 7 random people at the end, and include links to their blogs.
4. Let each person know they've been tagged by leaving a comment on their blogs.
*****
Well, I can tell you I'll violate the last rule or two, because I can't remember that many blogs that haven't been tagged already.
But here are the 7 random facts about me.
1. I am currently listening to the Barenaked Ladies. I adore them.
2. I once made a clerk at a specialty book store literally stare at me with jaw dropped. It was a mystery book store and it's like a slice of heavan on eart. I could read mystery/thrillers all day long. LOVE them. Devour them. Anyway, it was my first time in the store and I was pretty overwhelmed. He was trying to direct me and asked me what I liked to read. I said, "Oh, I love Agatha Christie. So quick and fun." He smiled a little condescendingly at me and said, "Well, the British tea cozies are over here . . ." I then said, "OH yes, and I adore Val McDermid. Her sex crimes are so disturbing and her plots are so beautifully intricate." If you aren't familiar with Val McDermid, her books are utterly haunting, and deal with hardcore sex crimes and serial murderers. And they are utterly brilliant. So basically, it's harder to come up with two complete opposites and this guy's jaw just dropped open and he stared at me.
3. I sometimes think in internet abbreviations. Like I'll think about Dh and call him DH in my head. Awesome.
4. I am very particular about the way I eat my food, especially things like M&Ms. I have to separate them by color and then even them out so there is the same number of each color, then eat them in even numbers. My old boss and friend thought that was SO WEIRD but after three years with me and weekly meetings with a jar of M&Ms there, she now does it too without realizing it. Bwahh haaa haaaa.
5. It's no secret that I am a giant Spurs fan, but it is of note that I do one of two things during games we watch (it's been a bit painful to watch lately) - I knit or I chat with other Spurs fans during games. I'm not sure which makes me a bigger dork.
6. I like to cook and I love to bake but I do neither with any frequency. DH and I made a deal which neither of us have honored but which we both want to work towards, which includes him cleaning up more frequently and me cooking at least twice a week.
7. I have a degree in history, but I work in finance. I can't do math accurately in my head. AWESOME.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Might have spoken a bit quickly.
Yesterday was a pretty decent day though. Gave me hope.
The bleeding isn't totally gone though. I had what I would consider a light flow following some cramps yesterday afternoon. But that is still showing noticeable and requisite improvement, so I'm feeling ok about things.
Everything is moving today, so joy. It's crazy around me. They've got to do their stuff and my new furniture has to arrive before I can do much myself, but I'm going to go help with emptying file cabinets.
Hope today goes ok. Will need coffee soon.
The bleeding isn't totally gone though. I had what I would consider a light flow following some cramps yesterday afternoon. But that is still showing noticeable and requisite improvement, so I'm feeling ok about things.
Everything is moving today, so joy. It's crazy around me. They've got to do their stuff and my new furniture has to arrive before I can do much myself, but I'm going to go help with emptying file cabinets.
Hope today goes ok. Will need coffee soon.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Some good news for a change.
One, the bleeding has just about disappeared. After another horrible cramping session yesterday, in which the bleeding slightly increased, and I was pretty afraid that it was a sign of retained tissue, well, things got better. Very little bleeding over night, and as of today - just brown spotting. That is really good news. If nothing else, it means I can have sex with DH soon. And that hasn't happened since September, so I'm really looking forward to it.
Two, I'm getting my own office. Which . . . yay! I knew I was moving out of my cube one way or another. That was decided awhile back. Then, while I was gone (or maybe even sometime this morning), the decision was made to move my two colleagues in together to my boss' office, and so that meant I get my colleague's old office. Honestly, I wonder if it's because they thought I would talk too much with someone else, or if my other colleague was adament enough about keeping a window that she asked for the smaller/shared office to keep it. I don't care. I get a door. That closes. And a new desk. With twice as many drawers. And a credenza with four more drawers. And I get to keep my chair.
I am so very happy about that. I may need a small bookshelf though. And I think I'm also getting a work study table in my office. But since it should only be used a few hours a week, it's no biggie.
As for work, it's been ok. The first thing this morning was a staff meeting. Everyone was there, so I took a moment at my turn to speak to say "Everyone has been asking if I'm ok, and so I thought I'd go ahead and address it here. I am not ok. I am getting there. I think I will be ok again at some point, but for the moment, I'm not. I do appreciate very much everyone's well wishes and sympathy. It has been really kind and helpful. I appreciate everyone picking up the slack for me and giving me the time I needed to deal with everything. Thanks for making it so much easier for me." I cried a little, but that was ok. At least everyone has stopped asking if I'm ok and has given me some space.
Being back has actually helped some, because it's more routine and because people here make me laugh. Laughter is healing and it always helps.
Two, I'm getting my own office. Which . . . yay! I knew I was moving out of my cube one way or another. That was decided awhile back. Then, while I was gone (or maybe even sometime this morning), the decision was made to move my two colleagues in together to my boss' office, and so that meant I get my colleague's old office. Honestly, I wonder if it's because they thought I would talk too much with someone else, or if my other colleague was adament enough about keeping a window that she asked for the smaller/shared office to keep it. I don't care. I get a door. That closes. And a new desk. With twice as many drawers. And a credenza with four more drawers. And I get to keep my chair.
I am so very happy about that. I may need a small bookshelf though. And I think I'm also getting a work study table in my office. But since it should only be used a few hours a week, it's no biggie.
As for work, it's been ok. The first thing this morning was a staff meeting. Everyone was there, so I took a moment at my turn to speak to say "Everyone has been asking if I'm ok, and so I thought I'd go ahead and address it here. I am not ok. I am getting there. I think I will be ok again at some point, but for the moment, I'm not. I do appreciate very much everyone's well wishes and sympathy. It has been really kind and helpful. I appreciate everyone picking up the slack for me and giving me the time I needed to deal with everything. Thanks for making it so much easier for me." I cried a little, but that was ok. At least everyone has stopped asking if I'm ok and has given me some space.
Being back has actually helped some, because it's more routine and because people here make me laugh. Laughter is healing and it always helps.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Made it through the half-day.
It was harder than I expected. I think everyone is being very kind, and I was only in the actual office for about 20 minutes, but it's going to be hard. Only way to deal with it is to go through it, sadly, but it's hard and I don't like it.
I'm not ready to go back. But I don't know when I will be, and at this point there is no physical reason to avoid coming back. Emotionally, well, some days I'm a wreck, and that's going to take time. Might as well not waste my sick leave then, right? I was an absolute wreck after DH tried to kill himself a long time ago, but I went back to work, and I survived. It sucked, but then things became more routine and got easier and time passed and I survived. So that is what needs to happen again.
I'm tired though. I know it's more a depressed tired than a physical tired, but that doesn't matter much in the end when I just feel worn down and wrung out. I'm looking forward to the end of this all, but I don't know when that will be. One day at a time, I suppose.
I'm not ready to go back. But I don't know when I will be, and at this point there is no physical reason to avoid coming back. Emotionally, well, some days I'm a wreck, and that's going to take time. Might as well not waste my sick leave then, right? I was an absolute wreck after DH tried to kill himself a long time ago, but I went back to work, and I survived. It sucked, but then things became more routine and got easier and time passed and I survived. So that is what needs to happen again.
I'm tired though. I know it's more a depressed tired than a physical tired, but that doesn't matter much in the end when I just feel worn down and wrung out. I'm looking forward to the end of this all, but I don't know when that will be. One day at a time, I suppose.
Monday, November 10, 2008
I'm not sure this is over.
After Thursday evening, I was relieved because it seemed like it was finally over.
Then by Sunday I was a bit concerned because the bleeding hadn't subsided much. I mean, it wasn't terrible, but it wasn't going away either.
Last night I had horrible cramps similar to Thursday's cramps. I did pass one large clot, and that was it.
Overnight I had no bleeding, just a tiny bit of spotting. I felt relieved, thinking this must finally be coming to an end. I came home from dropping DH off and it appears it's not over yet, as the cramps have returned and have been going strong for hours now. It's extremely painful.
Bleeding returned in a big way. Not like Thursday's bleeding where I would soak through a pad pretty quickly, but it's what I would call heavy. And from none to heavy is really discouraging.
I don't know if this is a sign there is just a little bit of tissue left that my body is trying to take care of on it's own or a sign of something else. I can tell you that it worries me, it hurts and makes me doubt whether it's wise to return to work. I'm really afraid of having to see an OB and having to go ahead with surgery and it makes me sad and angry. I do know that the miso could take up a week to work, which would be tomorrow, but after everything else, shouldn't this be over?
I'm so fucking tired. I'm tired of feeling sad and bitter and ok and not ok and being in physical pain. Haven't I gone through more than enough for a child that doesn't even exist and barely ever did? I just want to be done with this and have it all behind me. I'm beginning to wish I'd gone ahead and jumped through the hoops to have a d&c, because then it would be over.
Then by Sunday I was a bit concerned because the bleeding hadn't subsided much. I mean, it wasn't terrible, but it wasn't going away either.
Last night I had horrible cramps similar to Thursday's cramps. I did pass one large clot, and that was it.
Overnight I had no bleeding, just a tiny bit of spotting. I felt relieved, thinking this must finally be coming to an end. I came home from dropping DH off and it appears it's not over yet, as the cramps have returned and have been going strong for hours now. It's extremely painful.
Bleeding returned in a big way. Not like Thursday's bleeding where I would soak through a pad pretty quickly, but it's what I would call heavy. And from none to heavy is really discouraging.
I don't know if this is a sign there is just a little bit of tissue left that my body is trying to take care of on it's own or a sign of something else. I can tell you that it worries me, it hurts and makes me doubt whether it's wise to return to work. I'm really afraid of having to see an OB and having to go ahead with surgery and it makes me sad and angry. I do know that the miso could take up a week to work, which would be tomorrow, but after everything else, shouldn't this be over?
I'm so fucking tired. I'm tired of feeling sad and bitter and ok and not ok and being in physical pain. Haven't I gone through more than enough for a child that doesn't even exist and barely ever did? I just want to be done with this and have it all behind me. I'm beginning to wish I'd gone ahead and jumped through the hoops to have a d&c, because then it would be over.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
I'm getting a new tattoo.
Ever since I told DH about feeling so awful that there is no sign left of my Chickadee, nothing to show that s/he ever existed, I've been tossing around the idea of a new tattoo. Something small, but something that will forever be a mark of my baby left on me. A sign that everyone can see that Chickadee existed and was important and was loved.
It feels right. It feels very right. So I'm going to get a tattoo. I'm not totally sure of what or where. I'm thinking a very small baby chick, maybe on my left wrist. I think work will throw a small fit about that, but I really don't care. On my left wrist, few people will see it often. Maybe I will put it somewhere else, I don't know.
But I do know that I will do something, and that makes me feel better.
It feels right. It feels very right. So I'm going to get a tattoo. I'm not totally sure of what or where. I'm thinking a very small baby chick, maybe on my left wrist. I think work will throw a small fit about that, but I really don't care. On my left wrist, few people will see it often. Maybe I will put it somewhere else, I don't know.
But I do know that I will do something, and that makes me feel better.
Walking Wounded.
I saw that term on a pregnancy loss board today and it resonated with me.
The woman posting was discussing whether or not to tell people about her miscarriage, because she hadn't told many people she was pregnant. She said that she was having a hard time walking around with this giant hurtful, painful secret that no one knew.
I know how that feels. Nearly everyone around me daily or important to me knew we were pregnant. And I think all of them know that we have had a miscarriage. I think it makes it easier. I know we'll hesitate to tell everyone without seeing a healthy heartbeat next time, but I'm glad they knew this time. It makes it easier to explain that I don't want to talk or that I want to be alone or whatever. It was easier to arrange the necessary time off work when everyone knew and understood.
It also makes it hard to be in public sometimes. We did go out for dinner, and it was fine. Well cooked, good. But I didn't enjoy it. It was the first time I've really been out since the miscarriage and it was unexpectedly difficult. It felt wrong. It felt normal. I know I've been desperate for normal, but this felt wrong. It felt like - I should have some sort of sign on me that says "I AM NOT OK. I JUST HAD A MISCARRIAGE." So people will understand. I'm not just another woman going out for a nice dinner. I'm a woman in pain, with a husband in pain, and we are not ok damn it.
That's one of the hardest things about miscarriage. In most cases, it happens with little visible sign of pregnancy, and there is no outward symbol for others to see. There are moments I've doubted it was ever real. That I was ever pregnant. It's especially hard because my body didn't clue in when it should have, so it kept building HCG and I had so many symptoms. I have even gone back to ask DH - did I really have those symptoms? Really? Two weeks ago - my God, it was two weeks ago - I was so nauseated that I sat with a bowl in my lap because getting up to go to the bathroom would have resulted in my throwing up on the living room floor.
Now there is nothing left of it but blood, cramps and a pile of unworn maternity clothes. It is so surreal and it makes me so angry. There is nothing left to remind anyone and most people, a week later, have forgotten. I can't forget. I wish I could, but I can't. And no one else knows or cares.
The woman posting was discussing whether or not to tell people about her miscarriage, because she hadn't told many people she was pregnant. She said that she was having a hard time walking around with this giant hurtful, painful secret that no one knew.
I know how that feels. Nearly everyone around me daily or important to me knew we were pregnant. And I think all of them know that we have had a miscarriage. I think it makes it easier. I know we'll hesitate to tell everyone without seeing a healthy heartbeat next time, but I'm glad they knew this time. It makes it easier to explain that I don't want to talk or that I want to be alone or whatever. It was easier to arrange the necessary time off work when everyone knew and understood.
It also makes it hard to be in public sometimes. We did go out for dinner, and it was fine. Well cooked, good. But I didn't enjoy it. It was the first time I've really been out since the miscarriage and it was unexpectedly difficult. It felt wrong. It felt normal. I know I've been desperate for normal, but this felt wrong. It felt like - I should have some sort of sign on me that says "I AM NOT OK. I JUST HAD A MISCARRIAGE." So people will understand. I'm not just another woman going out for a nice dinner. I'm a woman in pain, with a husband in pain, and we are not ok damn it.
That's one of the hardest things about miscarriage. In most cases, it happens with little visible sign of pregnancy, and there is no outward symbol for others to see. There are moments I've doubted it was ever real. That I was ever pregnant. It's especially hard because my body didn't clue in when it should have, so it kept building HCG and I had so many symptoms. I have even gone back to ask DH - did I really have those symptoms? Really? Two weeks ago - my God, it was two weeks ago - I was so nauseated that I sat with a bowl in my lap because getting up to go to the bathroom would have resulted in my throwing up on the living room floor.
Now there is nothing left of it but blood, cramps and a pile of unworn maternity clothes. It is so surreal and it makes me so angry. There is nothing left to remind anyone and most people, a week later, have forgotten. I can't forget. I wish I could, but I can't. And no one else knows or cares.
Made a decision.
I will go back to work on Tuesday. Not for a full day, but I'll go to my training session in the morning and check my email, get caught up, etc for a couple of hours, then go to a presentation one of my 'kids' is giving. He's one of the last people to not know I lost the baby, so that part will suck, but seeing him will be worth it.
If I'm physically ok, then I need to go back. I'd rather stay home of course, and I'm dreading a lot about it, but nevertheless, there is no reason to waste my sick time moping about the house. I have hopes of getting pregnant again, and if it happens soon, I'll regret taking more than a week off.
Better to get back to some semblance of normal, and maybe it will become normal. That's what has worked before, anyway. Maybe I'll be more productive at work now. I could use a decent raise, so I can hope anyway.
I plan to spend the next three days working on the house, starting to get things back in order in advance of Thanksgiving. Since we're hosting, we need to get things cleaned up - in the actual straightened, dust the baseboards, clear the table and the boxes and the desk and shelves of their detritus sort of way, rather than the normal ignore it and run a duster over it instead of putting it away thing that we typically do. Which does involve massive reorganization, sadly. I can do it, but I'd rather not, if you see what I mean?
Anyhow, we're going to go to Benihana's shortly. Yum.
If I'm physically ok, then I need to go back. I'd rather stay home of course, and I'm dreading a lot about it, but nevertheless, there is no reason to waste my sick time moping about the house. I have hopes of getting pregnant again, and if it happens soon, I'll regret taking more than a week off.
Better to get back to some semblance of normal, and maybe it will become normal. That's what has worked before, anyway. Maybe I'll be more productive at work now. I could use a decent raise, so I can hope anyway.
I plan to spend the next three days working on the house, starting to get things back in order in advance of Thanksgiving. Since we're hosting, we need to get things cleaned up - in the actual straightened, dust the baseboards, clear the table and the boxes and the desk and shelves of their detritus sort of way, rather than the normal ignore it and run a duster over it instead of putting it away thing that we typically do. Which does involve massive reorganization, sadly. I can do it, but I'd rather not, if you see what I mean?
Anyhow, we're going to go to Benihana's shortly. Yum.
Friday, November 7, 2008
I feel so alone. I'm not ok.
I am not ok.
I'm simply not. I've had hours and moments of being ok and I think I will be ok again someday, but I'm a wreck right now. Tired, emotional, you name it, that's me. But right now, I am not ok.
I desperately want to be ok. I don't want to worry DH or my mom or my friends, so I try really hard to be ok, and sometimes I am for a little while.
I am tired of thinking about and talking about my miscarriage, but there are times I have to talk about it or I'll go crazy inside my head. I hate to continue posting about it online, because I know it makes people uncomfortable, and it sucks because there isn't anything they can do. And I know it's unpleasant and I know people would rather shy away from it. I've tried hard to stay active in other posts, in happy posts and not to be that person who is totally caught up in their own personal dramas and tragedies and oblivious to how much it makes those around them uncomfortable and sad.
I've been told over and over that people everywhere support me and are there for me and whatever I need, and I do appreciate that. But I also feel like a drama queen when I post about it, like I'm demanding attention and demanding that people feel sorry for me and heap sympathy on me. I feel like I'm acting like the only person in the world who has ever gone through this loss, playing it out like some old time tragedian. I know I'm not the only person to go through this and I don't want to demand sympathy or attention. But sometimes I need to connect somehow with someone and the internet is the quickest connection. When I started cramping so painfully last night, I had to get that out somewhere. Then I felt bad about it. No one wanted to know that.
I want to talk about it now, but I don't know where. I feel like an outcast. I don't feel comfortable and I don't fit in on PL or TTCAL. I feel like I'm bringing down the Hos, especially with the good things happening. I feel like I should avoid BOTB, because there are so many happy things there, and continuing to post my sad stuff seems wrong and aw'ish. And honestly it's hard to post there and see the people I was pregnant with on there, their tickers starting to pass me by, the people I enjoyed getting to know better, the ones I was pregnant with now moving on, closer to their second trimesters, while I am here. Waiting. Wondering whether to try again or not, in no man's land.
I feel alone. I know there are a lot of people who care about me. Numerous, kind offers to email, to chat, to call, to come over. I want that and I don't want that. I just have a hard time picking up the phone or sending an email. I feel like such a burden. I feel like, it's been a week. It's time to move on. But I can't.
I'm stuck here, all alone. I don't want to bring my husband down further. He's dealing with his own grief and sorrow. I don't want to bring my mother down here, she already so worried about me. I don't want to continue posting the same things and I don't know where else to turn. I feel alone and sad and I don't know how to begin to make my way out of this mess and this sorrow and this grief. It's Friday. I really need to think about going back to work and I just don't want to. I'm not there mentally, but I doubt I ever will be, so I just need to go and get it over with.
I think I'm going to nap now. I am so tired after last night and I didn't get enough sleep at all. Maybe when I'm better rested, things may have more perspective. Maybe I will feel less alone.
I'm simply not. I've had hours and moments of being ok and I think I will be ok again someday, but I'm a wreck right now. Tired, emotional, you name it, that's me. But right now, I am not ok.
I desperately want to be ok. I don't want to worry DH or my mom or my friends, so I try really hard to be ok, and sometimes I am for a little while.
I am tired of thinking about and talking about my miscarriage, but there are times I have to talk about it or I'll go crazy inside my head. I hate to continue posting about it online, because I know it makes people uncomfortable, and it sucks because there isn't anything they can do. And I know it's unpleasant and I know people would rather shy away from it. I've tried hard to stay active in other posts, in happy posts and not to be that person who is totally caught up in their own personal dramas and tragedies and oblivious to how much it makes those around them uncomfortable and sad.
I've been told over and over that people everywhere support me and are there for me and whatever I need, and I do appreciate that. But I also feel like a drama queen when I post about it, like I'm demanding attention and demanding that people feel sorry for me and heap sympathy on me. I feel like I'm acting like the only person in the world who has ever gone through this loss, playing it out like some old time tragedian. I know I'm not the only person to go through this and I don't want to demand sympathy or attention. But sometimes I need to connect somehow with someone and the internet is the quickest connection. When I started cramping so painfully last night, I had to get that out somewhere. Then I felt bad about it. No one wanted to know that.
I want to talk about it now, but I don't know where. I feel like an outcast. I don't feel comfortable and I don't fit in on PL or TTCAL. I feel like I'm bringing down the Hos, especially with the good things happening. I feel like I should avoid BOTB, because there are so many happy things there, and continuing to post my sad stuff seems wrong and aw'ish. And honestly it's hard to post there and see the people I was pregnant with on there, their tickers starting to pass me by, the people I enjoyed getting to know better, the ones I was pregnant with now moving on, closer to their second trimesters, while I am here. Waiting. Wondering whether to try again or not, in no man's land.
I feel alone. I know there are a lot of people who care about me. Numerous, kind offers to email, to chat, to call, to come over. I want that and I don't want that. I just have a hard time picking up the phone or sending an email. I feel like such a burden. I feel like, it's been a week. It's time to move on. But I can't.
I'm stuck here, all alone. I don't want to bring my husband down further. He's dealing with his own grief and sorrow. I don't want to bring my mother down here, she already so worried about me. I don't want to continue posting the same things and I don't know where else to turn. I feel alone and sad and I don't know how to begin to make my way out of this mess and this sorrow and this grief. It's Friday. I really need to think about going back to work and I just don't want to. I'm not there mentally, but I doubt I ever will be, so I just need to go and get it over with.
I think I'm going to nap now. I am so tired after last night and I didn't get enough sleep at all. Maybe when I'm better rested, things may have more perspective. Maybe I will feel less alone.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Have some answers now.
Feel a little ashamed of myself.
But maybe that anger needed to be pierced and drained, rather than festering, so I can't apologize for it.
*Warning. This is going to be very graphic. More than anything else I've written about my miscarriage to date.*
Four? Five? hours later, and I'm still contracting and passing tissue and clots. There were a lot of really big clots that have passed in gushes of blood. I sit in my chair, breathing through the sharp, sharp cramps (and thinking that now I have a taste of natural birth - and it's going to hurt, but it should be bearable so long as there is a pattern to the contractions), then feel a small gush of blood, then stand up to head to the bathroom, at which point a pad is soaked through and then a large blood clot or tissue passes into the toilet.
I say blood clot or tissue, because there have been both. This is what sent me spiraling over the edge, but now I know why. The last trip to the bathroom I felt something large pass through and the contractions passed for the moment. I moved to clean up a bit so I could return to the chair and my heating pad, and pushed a large mass of something out of my vagina when I went to wipe. I didn't realize until I stood up that the mass of something had been pushed onto the toilet seat rather than into the toilet bowl. I looked at it and picked it up with toilet paper and inadvertently got a closer look. I was shocked to realize I was holding a small placenta in my hand. Just like what I've seen pictures of frequently - the gray ridged side and the opposite side completely smooth. This was clearly tissue, even if it weren't recognizable as a small placenta. I subsequently passed and saw other gray tissue. Now, I am perfectly confident that the embryo and the sac passed on Tuesday. I know that.
But clearly, not everything passed. I retained a good deal of tissue and many clots, some quite large. So as painful as this was and as emotionally damaging as it felt when it started, I know why. It's so that I can in fact avoid surgery after all. Had this not happened tonight (or very soon), I would have continued to have a slow bleed for a couple of weeks, eventually would have gone back to work to find that I was going to have to jump through the hoops and schedule a surgery anyhow and miss more time. I still can't be 100% positive that everything has gone, but I can say that the dangers of surgery are greatly reduced by the sheer volume of tissue and clots that have already passed.
And I do believe that everything will pass before the night is through. The midwife called yesterday to check on me, and I ignored the call. I didn't want to talk to her, and now I am relieved that I did not. I would have told her all happened as she described - and while it would have been true, it wouldn't have been accurate. When I call her tomorrow, I should be able to tell her a much more accurate account of things.
I am tired. I have been through the wringer today - through every possible emotion related to my miscarriage today. I have been through a physical wringer. So much blood lost - not so much I'm concerned, mind you. I'm not stupid. I asked and was told, and DH was specifically told, what to look for to figure out what too much blood loss would be and what to do in that case. Nevertheless, the contractions for hours, so very painful, and the time spent huddled on the toilet, legs going numb, blood dripping and gushing from me has worn me out. It's not over yet, but should be soon, I hope.
I am hungry too. I need to come up with something to eat. I am glad to have some answers, but I feel exhausted and in need of comfort. Dh has done so well for me, getting me whatever I need, holding me, hugging me, offering me succor and love. But I feel like one large, gaping, raw wound, emotionally and physically. I am truly ready to be done with this and put it behind me. I hope, humbly, that this is it.
But maybe that anger needed to be pierced and drained, rather than festering, so I can't apologize for it.
*Warning. This is going to be very graphic. More than anything else I've written about my miscarriage to date.*
Four? Five? hours later, and I'm still contracting and passing tissue and clots. There were a lot of really big clots that have passed in gushes of blood. I sit in my chair, breathing through the sharp, sharp cramps (and thinking that now I have a taste of natural birth - and it's going to hurt, but it should be bearable so long as there is a pattern to the contractions), then feel a small gush of blood, then stand up to head to the bathroom, at which point a pad is soaked through and then a large blood clot or tissue passes into the toilet.
I say blood clot or tissue, because there have been both. This is what sent me spiraling over the edge, but now I know why. The last trip to the bathroom I felt something large pass through and the contractions passed for the moment. I moved to clean up a bit so I could return to the chair and my heating pad, and pushed a large mass of something out of my vagina when I went to wipe. I didn't realize until I stood up that the mass of something had been pushed onto the toilet seat rather than into the toilet bowl. I looked at it and picked it up with toilet paper and inadvertently got a closer look. I was shocked to realize I was holding a small placenta in my hand. Just like what I've seen pictures of frequently - the gray ridged side and the opposite side completely smooth. This was clearly tissue, even if it weren't recognizable as a small placenta. I subsequently passed and saw other gray tissue. Now, I am perfectly confident that the embryo and the sac passed on Tuesday. I know that.
But clearly, not everything passed. I retained a good deal of tissue and many clots, some quite large. So as painful as this was and as emotionally damaging as it felt when it started, I know why. It's so that I can in fact avoid surgery after all. Had this not happened tonight (or very soon), I would have continued to have a slow bleed for a couple of weeks, eventually would have gone back to work to find that I was going to have to jump through the hoops and schedule a surgery anyhow and miss more time. I still can't be 100% positive that everything has gone, but I can say that the dangers of surgery are greatly reduced by the sheer volume of tissue and clots that have already passed.
And I do believe that everything will pass before the night is through. The midwife called yesterday to check on me, and I ignored the call. I didn't want to talk to her, and now I am relieved that I did not. I would have told her all happened as she described - and while it would have been true, it wouldn't have been accurate. When I call her tomorrow, I should be able to tell her a much more accurate account of things.
I am tired. I have been through the wringer today - through every possible emotion related to my miscarriage today. I have been through a physical wringer. So much blood lost - not so much I'm concerned, mind you. I'm not stupid. I asked and was told, and DH was specifically told, what to look for to figure out what too much blood loss would be and what to do in that case. Nevertheless, the contractions for hours, so very painful, and the time spent huddled on the toilet, legs going numb, blood dripping and gushing from me has worn me out. It's not over yet, but should be soon, I hope.
I am hungry too. I need to come up with something to eat. I am glad to have some answers, but I feel exhausted and in need of comfort. Dh has done so well for me, getting me whatever I need, holding me, hugging me, offering me succor and love. But I feel like one large, gaping, raw wound, emotionally and physically. I am truly ready to be done with this and put it behind me. I hope, humbly, that this is it.
REALLY, God?
REALLY?
Why are you doing this to me? I get that I'm not perfect. I get that we've had our problems, and I get that I should do a lot more than I do to be a better person and to help people around me.
But why? WHY is this happening to me?
Today wasn't bad enough? What I went through on Tuesday wasn't enough for you? No, apparently not. Because now I'm cramping as badly as I was then and it fucking hurts. It fucking hurts really, really badly and I've already taken pain killers. I know I passed at least four separate clumps of tissue large enough to make noise hitting the toilet bowl on Tuesday. I felt them all slip through me. I saw the gray blob that was most likely fetal tissue.
So why is this happening again? Why am I feeling a gush of blood and passing giant clumps of tissue or clots? That thing was nearly the size of my palm. And I'm still bleeding and cramping.
What the fuck? When is this going to be enough for you? I'm pretty much at my fucking limit right now. I already told you how badly I feel for questioning things and how badly I feel about the jealousy and the bitterness and I've tried as hard as I can to be positive and find hope and redirect my thoughts when I feel so angry, and that's just not enough is it? Is this some sort of punishment? Oh my god, this hurts so much.
Is this hell ever going to end?
Why are you doing this to me? I get that I'm not perfect. I get that we've had our problems, and I get that I should do a lot more than I do to be a better person and to help people around me.
But why? WHY is this happening to me?
Today wasn't bad enough? What I went through on Tuesday wasn't enough for you? No, apparently not. Because now I'm cramping as badly as I was then and it fucking hurts. It fucking hurts really, really badly and I've already taken pain killers. I know I passed at least four separate clumps of tissue large enough to make noise hitting the toilet bowl on Tuesday. I felt them all slip through me. I saw the gray blob that was most likely fetal tissue.
So why is this happening again? Why am I feeling a gush of blood and passing giant clumps of tissue or clots? That thing was nearly the size of my palm. And I'm still bleeding and cramping.
What the fuck? When is this going to be enough for you? I'm pretty much at my fucking limit right now. I already told you how badly I feel for questioning things and how badly I feel about the jealousy and the bitterness and I've tried as hard as I can to be positive and find hope and redirect my thoughts when I feel so angry, and that's just not enough is it? Is this some sort of punishment? Oh my god, this hurts so much.
Is this hell ever going to end?
I miss my baby.
I'm so sad right now.
I want my baby back. I want to feel my baby growing inside me and I want to feel my baby kick me and poke me and jump on my bladder. My arms ache to hold the baby that will never be.
I want to watch my baby grow up into a little boy or little girl and into a teenager and an adult; I don't want to wonder if there is a God or not and what has happened to my baby that isn't any more.
I just go back to holding the blue elephant we bought for Chickadee, and crying. I thought I was done crying, but I guess I'm not. I am overwhelmed with grief for my poor baby right now.
I should be celebrating being 10 weeks right now, celebrating the fact that miscarriage risks dropped again. I should be looking at the new picture of what the baby looks like and comparing the sizes between babycenter and thebump. I should be sitting with DH, reading aloud to him about what development has just occurred and what is going to happen during this week. I should be feeling my uterus, not suffering through even more cramps, wondering whether or not all the tissue is gone, watching the variation in bleeding and wondering what it means. I should be watching my ticker change over, not debating whether or not we will use our names after all.
So angry. So sad. I don't feel like I can continue under these circumstances of shifting sand beneath my feet. I need some stable footing somewhere.
I want my baby back. I want to feel my baby growing inside me and I want to feel my baby kick me and poke me and jump on my bladder. My arms ache to hold the baby that will never be.
I want to watch my baby grow up into a little boy or little girl and into a teenager and an adult; I don't want to wonder if there is a God or not and what has happened to my baby that isn't any more.
I just go back to holding the blue elephant we bought for Chickadee, and crying. I thought I was done crying, but I guess I'm not. I am overwhelmed with grief for my poor baby right now.
I should be celebrating being 10 weeks right now, celebrating the fact that miscarriage risks dropped again. I should be looking at the new picture of what the baby looks like and comparing the sizes between babycenter and thebump. I should be sitting with DH, reading aloud to him about what development has just occurred and what is going to happen during this week. I should be feeling my uterus, not suffering through even more cramps, wondering whether or not all the tissue is gone, watching the variation in bleeding and wondering what it means. I should be watching my ticker change over, not debating whether or not we will use our names after all.
So angry. So sad. I don't feel like I can continue under these circumstances of shifting sand beneath my feet. I need some stable footing somewhere.
Feeling listless. But I'm going to try hard here.
There are a million things I could so, a hundred or so things I should do, and nothing I want to do.
Suck.
So. I'm going to try really hard right now to be positive. Because the bitterness and anger are making me unhappy and I don't like myself when I feel this way. So I'm going to try finding some positive things now.
1. My husband is an absolutely amazing, wonderful, supportive, loving, caring man and I adore him. I am the luckiest woman in the world to be married to someone who loves me so much.
2. My dog is fucking hilarious. He's a lovable, fuzzy boy who has started behaving about 70-75% of the time, which makes him a lot more fun. He loves DH more, and loves to play with DH, but he loves to curl up on my lap.
3. My mom is about the best mother I could hope for. She's not perfect. She's not always saying the right things and she doesn't always do what I would wish, but she loves me unconditionally and supports me and is always, always there for me.
4. My cat lurves me and I lurve him. He is my darling.
5. The Spurs won last night, and it was a fantastic game to watch. Yay!
6. I can go to the specialty bookstore tomorrow and shop for new murder mystery books. I haven't been there in a couple of years. I have to be careful, because I could easily spend hundreds of dollars on books that I have no room for. But I think this is not a bad time to go. Maybe I'll also get my nails done and have lunch somewhere with my new book. Maybe House of Pies, where I can buy a Chocolate Fudge Cake that is to die for.
7. The weather is pretty nice right now.
8. My family will be coming out here to spend Thanksgiving with us and I will show them my love and appreciation by cooking a really fantastic meal for them. And it will be lovely.
Suck.
So. I'm going to try really hard right now to be positive. Because the bitterness and anger are making me unhappy and I don't like myself when I feel this way. So I'm going to try finding some positive things now.
1. My husband is an absolutely amazing, wonderful, supportive, loving, caring man and I adore him. I am the luckiest woman in the world to be married to someone who loves me so much.
2. My dog is fucking hilarious. He's a lovable, fuzzy boy who has started behaving about 70-75% of the time, which makes him a lot more fun. He loves DH more, and loves to play with DH, but he loves to curl up on my lap.
3. My mom is about the best mother I could hope for. She's not perfect. She's not always saying the right things and she doesn't always do what I would wish, but she loves me unconditionally and supports me and is always, always there for me.
4. My cat lurves me and I lurve him. He is my darling.
5. The Spurs won last night, and it was a fantastic game to watch. Yay!
6. I can go to the specialty bookstore tomorrow and shop for new murder mystery books. I haven't been there in a couple of years. I have to be careful, because I could easily spend hundreds of dollars on books that I have no room for. But I think this is not a bad time to go. Maybe I'll also get my nails done and have lunch somewhere with my new book. Maybe House of Pies, where I can buy a Chocolate Fudge Cake that is to die for.
7. The weather is pretty nice right now.
8. My family will be coming out here to spend Thanksgiving with us and I will show them my love and appreciation by cooking a really fantastic meal for them. And it will be lovely.
Today is a more bitter day.
I woke up feeling ok, had a decent night of sleep, but I just feel more angry and bitter.
I thought of a couple of people I know, and I was suddenly angry. They got pregnant by surprise and didn't want more children. Now, they are fabulous mothers, and once they adjusted to the surprise, they were extremely excited and they love their children. But all I can think about is how unfair it is. They weren't ready, they didn't have to go through months of trying to conceive and disappointment and they didn't have to go through losing a child they really wanted and planned for and welcomed. And I certainly wouldn't want them to go through that. But I sit here and think - why them? Why do they get to keep and have their babies, while my wanted baby is gone?
And I'm angry. I'm angry at the unfairness of it and of life. I'm angry at the cruel joke and pain I've been through. I'm angry at the fear we both feel and our hesitancy at trying again.
And I'm sad. I'm sad that I will never look at a pregnancy test without fear of what happens after that. I'm sad that my husband is hurting and I can't fix it. I'm sad that I will never have a pregnancy in which I can simply be relaxed and happy. I'm sad that the next time this happens, I will be petrified until I can go in and see a beating heart. And even then, I know I will be petrified until I see it again and I can hear it for myself.
I'm terrified. I'm terrified that we will try again and it will happen right away. I'm terrified that we will try again and it won't ever happen. My sister, when I told her I was pregnant said, "Thank God. I was so worried you wouldn't be able to get pregnant and I know how important it is to you to be a mother." And while I know it was probably a weird genetic quirk - one of those things. Those things that happens that no one can control or prevent or it was simply that a cell didn't divide the way it should - in short, that there is no earthly reason we know of that this should happen again or that we shouldn't have a healthy pregnancy - I fear that it is my fault. That the quality of my eggs is poor, because I lived so many years in such unhealthy fashion and that my babies will pay the price of it.
So today is not a good day, I think. I hate feeling this way and thinking these things and I hate that I can't turn it off. Will this ever stop?
I thought of a couple of people I know, and I was suddenly angry. They got pregnant by surprise and didn't want more children. Now, they are fabulous mothers, and once they adjusted to the surprise, they were extremely excited and they love their children. But all I can think about is how unfair it is. They weren't ready, they didn't have to go through months of trying to conceive and disappointment and they didn't have to go through losing a child they really wanted and planned for and welcomed. And I certainly wouldn't want them to go through that. But I sit here and think - why them? Why do they get to keep and have their babies, while my wanted baby is gone?
And I'm angry. I'm angry at the unfairness of it and of life. I'm angry at the cruel joke and pain I've been through. I'm angry at the fear we both feel and our hesitancy at trying again.
And I'm sad. I'm sad that I will never look at a pregnancy test without fear of what happens after that. I'm sad that my husband is hurting and I can't fix it. I'm sad that I will never have a pregnancy in which I can simply be relaxed and happy. I'm sad that the next time this happens, I will be petrified until I can go in and see a beating heart. And even then, I know I will be petrified until I see it again and I can hear it for myself.
I'm terrified. I'm terrified that we will try again and it will happen right away. I'm terrified that we will try again and it won't ever happen. My sister, when I told her I was pregnant said, "Thank God. I was so worried you wouldn't be able to get pregnant and I know how important it is to you to be a mother." And while I know it was probably a weird genetic quirk - one of those things. Those things that happens that no one can control or prevent or it was simply that a cell didn't divide the way it should - in short, that there is no earthly reason we know of that this should happen again or that we shouldn't have a healthy pregnancy - I fear that it is my fault. That the quality of my eggs is poor, because I lived so many years in such unhealthy fashion and that my babies will pay the price of it.
So today is not a good day, I think. I hate feeling this way and thinking these things and I hate that I can't turn it off. Will this ever stop?
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Feeling better!
I don't want to get too gross or graphic, so I'll just say that I feel pretty confident everything is gone. Not 100%, but things happened much as the midwife told me they should. She said the bleeding would get a lot heavier, and it did, and then it would get a lot lighter after things passed, which has happened. The cramping was really bad for a few hours, but this morning is gone. It's like a medium period day.
I feel physically a million times better. It's weird not to be pregnant anymore, to remember how it feels not to be exhausted and tired and bloated all the time. I feel normal again. Which is sort of weird in itself.
I know things are not done, and there will be a long road ahead, with a lot of feelings and mixed emotions, but I do know, 100%, that I'm going to be all right. And that DH will be all right. It will take some time, but we will be ok.
This isn't what we wanted. This is not what we would ever choose. I'd rather have our Chickadee safe and growing inside me than be on the verge of the ttc rollercoaster again and all the fears of a safe and healthy pregnancy the next time that test turns positive, let alone the potential of ever having to do this again. But it hasn't been all bad.
There are so many amazing people who have stepped up to offer love and support and comfort and warm arms and prayers. My family and friends have been amazing - I cannot express how much I love my husband and appreciate every single thing he's done for me. I can't tell you how supportive and wonderful the 'internet people' have been. Thank you to the Ho's, the SpursTalk family, the wonderful ANers and BOTBers. Thank you again and again from the bottom of my heart.
There will be a lot to pay forward from this, and to do it in Chickadee's honor - well, that will be a fitting tribute, I think.
I feel physically a million times better. It's weird not to be pregnant anymore, to remember how it feels not to be exhausted and tired and bloated all the time. I feel normal again. Which is sort of weird in itself.
I know things are not done, and there will be a long road ahead, with a lot of feelings and mixed emotions, but I do know, 100%, that I'm going to be all right. And that DH will be all right. It will take some time, but we will be ok.
This isn't what we wanted. This is not what we would ever choose. I'd rather have our Chickadee safe and growing inside me than be on the verge of the ttc rollercoaster again and all the fears of a safe and healthy pregnancy the next time that test turns positive, let alone the potential of ever having to do this again. But it hasn't been all bad.
There are so many amazing people who have stepped up to offer love and support and comfort and warm arms and prayers. My family and friends have been amazing - I cannot express how much I love my husband and appreciate every single thing he's done for me. I can't tell you how supportive and wonderful the 'internet people' have been. Thank you to the Ho's, the SpursTalk family, the wonderful ANers and BOTBers. Thank you again and again from the bottom of my heart.
There will be a lot to pay forward from this, and to do it in Chickadee's honor - well, that will be a fitting tribute, I think.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Took the first dose of misoprostol.
About 15 minutes ago I took the 100 mcg orally, and 25 mg vaginally. I will repeat the 25 mcg vaginally every six hours until everything passes or I have reached the full dose of 100 mcg.
I doubt that will happen, that so much will be needed. My levels are indeed falling rapidly, and cervical fluid has become creamy, as it does before a period. While I was pregnant for nearly 10 weeks, the embryo only developed to 5-6 weeks and the sac only developed to 7 weeks. It shouldn't take much to cause enough dilation and cramping for everything to pass. I hope that is the case anyway.
DH is staying home with me today. The last couple of days have been harder for him than me. His first concern when we found out was me, because I was so distraught. He said now that he knows I'll be ok, all the emotions I had previously are really hitting him. Just as I'm getting ready to think about trying again and weighing the odds of everything, he's getting gun shy. It kills me to see him so sad. He emailed his boss this morning to fill him in. His work is a polling place, so it's a big deal he's not there, but his boss will hopefully understand. He said he couldn't deal with telling him and speaking all the words out loud, and I felt my heart break again.
So far, I've had a couple of minor cramps. I expect it will take some time. My midwife said that it would be a lot like labor - cramps coming and going with some break between, with that time shortening until everything passed. She said first cramping, then spotting, then bleeding. Bleeding would get heavy until everything passed, then would lighten up considerably. I was going to take it last night after she called, but found in the end, I was more comfortable getting some sleep rather than staying up all night potentially.
It was hard to take it. It was hard to make myself take a medication that I know will cause me pain and bleeding, but it was necessary. It's not like walking into surgery is so much easier, anyway. The hardest thing was to take it, though I know everything is over and nearly done with, even though I know that I wanted it to end soon. It hit me again that this is ending my pregnancy, and this is the end of Chickadee. I said goodbye already, and I know that I am not doing anything bad or wrong, but it's still hard to do.
It's done now though. I can't take any pain meds until everything is over, because they could interfere with the meds. I hope the miso works, because the only other option is to have a d&c and I still have to jump through hoops to make that happen. I'd rather avoid it. Wish me luck.
I doubt that will happen, that so much will be needed. My levels are indeed falling rapidly, and cervical fluid has become creamy, as it does before a period. While I was pregnant for nearly 10 weeks, the embryo only developed to 5-6 weeks and the sac only developed to 7 weeks. It shouldn't take much to cause enough dilation and cramping for everything to pass. I hope that is the case anyway.
DH is staying home with me today. The last couple of days have been harder for him than me. His first concern when we found out was me, because I was so distraught. He said now that he knows I'll be ok, all the emotions I had previously are really hitting him. Just as I'm getting ready to think about trying again and weighing the odds of everything, he's getting gun shy. It kills me to see him so sad. He emailed his boss this morning to fill him in. His work is a polling place, so it's a big deal he's not there, but his boss will hopefully understand. He said he couldn't deal with telling him and speaking all the words out loud, and I felt my heart break again.
So far, I've had a couple of minor cramps. I expect it will take some time. My midwife said that it would be a lot like labor - cramps coming and going with some break between, with that time shortening until everything passed. She said first cramping, then spotting, then bleeding. Bleeding would get heavy until everything passed, then would lighten up considerably. I was going to take it last night after she called, but found in the end, I was more comfortable getting some sleep rather than staying up all night potentially.
It was hard to take it. It was hard to make myself take a medication that I know will cause me pain and bleeding, but it was necessary. It's not like walking into surgery is so much easier, anyway. The hardest thing was to take it, though I know everything is over and nearly done with, even though I know that I wanted it to end soon. It hit me again that this is ending my pregnancy, and this is the end of Chickadee. I said goodbye already, and I know that I am not doing anything bad or wrong, but it's still hard to do.
It's done now though. I can't take any pain meds until everything is over, because they could interfere with the meds. I hope the miso works, because the only other option is to have a d&c and I still have to jump through hoops to make that happen. I'd rather avoid it. Wish me luck.
Monday, November 3, 2008
The bitternes is hard to cope with.
I'm feeling better all the time, becoming more like normal. The fact that most of the pregnancy symptoms are gone makes that easier. I feel more normal, that helps.
But I find bitterness popping up at surprising moments. Bitterness when yet another person tells me they are sorry; how awful is that? They are expressing condolences and sincerely sympathizing with me, and into my mouth pops a sarcastic comment and I choke it down and try to smile instead.
Bitterness when I see someone on the nest asking an innocent, and maybe kind of dumb question. I actually typed out something really awful in response to someone today, along the lines of 'Yeah, that sucks that you have to wait another month to ttc. It's almost as bad as having to wait a few more hours to take medicine to eject my dead embryo from my body. But you know, not quite.' That's not me. That's not who I am or who I want to be. I was always appalled by the bitterness or one-ups-manship of poor me I've seen happen on the nest. The ranking by tragedy. Abhorrent. And yet, there I was, typing it out, about to pour my pain and anger onto someone else.
It's a relief to be able to laugh, and to snuggle with my dh on the couch and watch tv and feel like things are indeed going to be ok again. It's horrifying to find myself reacting with such anger towards people who have nothing to do with me. I walked into Target today, having decided to go ahead and pack away the maternity clothes I purchased (except for a shirt or two that don't look maternity than can go in my regular rotation). There is nothing wrong with the clothes and I can use them someday, but there is no sense in them taking up valuable closet space right now. I was anxious about going to Target - with a large infant section, near the book section I wanted to start in. I was worried about how I would feel.
I felt just fine. I actually felt more interested in looking at the baby stuff than I ever did when I was actually pregnant. I wasn't bothered at all. I wasn't bothered by the babies or the pregnant women I saw there at all. That was a huge relief.
However, the bitterness I felt when I was approached at work by my cubicle neighbor who cheerfully asked how I was doing and could she get me anything? Just awful. I don't think she was aware, actually - it seems my boss didn't want to spread bad news without first talking to me, which I appreciate. But she stood there, so cheerful, so bouncy, and I wanted to throw something.
I feel bad about this. I can't prevent it, and I actually think it's a little healthier than repressing it. But I hope it doesn't last. I hope I don't always have to edit myself and feel like I need to run through everything three or four times, or choke things back. But I do hope this doesn't last forever. I don't like that feeling at all.
But I find bitterness popping up at surprising moments. Bitterness when yet another person tells me they are sorry; how awful is that? They are expressing condolences and sincerely sympathizing with me, and into my mouth pops a sarcastic comment and I choke it down and try to smile instead.
Bitterness when I see someone on the nest asking an innocent, and maybe kind of dumb question. I actually typed out something really awful in response to someone today, along the lines of 'Yeah, that sucks that you have to wait another month to ttc. It's almost as bad as having to wait a few more hours to take medicine to eject my dead embryo from my body. But you know, not quite.' That's not me. That's not who I am or who I want to be. I was always appalled by the bitterness or one-ups-manship of poor me I've seen happen on the nest. The ranking by tragedy. Abhorrent. And yet, there I was, typing it out, about to pour my pain and anger onto someone else.
It's a relief to be able to laugh, and to snuggle with my dh on the couch and watch tv and feel like things are indeed going to be ok again. It's horrifying to find myself reacting with such anger towards people who have nothing to do with me. I walked into Target today, having decided to go ahead and pack away the maternity clothes I purchased (except for a shirt or two that don't look maternity than can go in my regular rotation). There is nothing wrong with the clothes and I can use them someday, but there is no sense in them taking up valuable closet space right now. I was anxious about going to Target - with a large infant section, near the book section I wanted to start in. I was worried about how I would feel.
I felt just fine. I actually felt more interested in looking at the baby stuff than I ever did when I was actually pregnant. I wasn't bothered at all. I wasn't bothered by the babies or the pregnant women I saw there at all. That was a huge relief.
However, the bitterness I felt when I was approached at work by my cubicle neighbor who cheerfully asked how I was doing and could she get me anything? Just awful. I don't think she was aware, actually - it seems my boss didn't want to spread bad news without first talking to me, which I appreciate. But she stood there, so cheerful, so bouncy, and I wanted to throw something.
I feel bad about this. I can't prevent it, and I actually think it's a little healthier than repressing it. But I hope it doesn't last. I hope I don't always have to edit myself and feel like I need to run through everything three or four times, or choke things back. But I do hope this doesn't last forever. I don't like that feeling at all.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Unplaying tetris.
That's what my husband said on his blog, when he broke the news that what he had posted Monday - the picture of us holding the sign announcing our baby's expected arrival date - was actually not true, and he's very sorry, but he needs to take it back.
It comes from a former roommate of his. Joe was moving in with his fiance, into a house they'd just bought. He was packing up his stuff; it fit into about 2 dozen boxes of various sizes. The only place to put them as they filled was one tiny corner of the kitchen. He referred to the growing stack as his version of 3D Tetris. Of course, once all the boxes were packed and he was getting ready to close on the house, a question arose about a supposed late charge on a credit card Joe hadn't used in years. In order to dispute the charge and have it removed from his credit report, so they could in fact get the rate they were supposed to have and close on time, Joe had to find the card - which had been packed early on and was now in one of the boxes stacked underneath all the others. His comment as he undid all his hard work - "Playing 3D Tetris was really hard. Unplaying Tetris is harder."
That's what the past couple of days have been. Unplaying tetris. Untelling all the good news; taking back all the happiness and hope of the last 6 weeks and making it sadness and grief. Undoing all the dreams we had for the future. Readjusting to not being pregnant. Readjusting to the thought of having to try again, wondering if we will ever have a baby. I'm not sure I can ever voluntarily put myself in a position to do this ever again. Realizing that every thing I've gone through in the last 6 weeks - every scare, every worry, every wave of nausea, each food aversion, all the hours lost to sleep, to fatigue - all for nothing. For a dead baby that is still inside me, for a body that doesn't understand that even though there was every symptom under the sun - severely felt, at that - the baby isn't there and will never be there. Waiting, hoping things happen on their own, having to call and possibly beg for drugs to induce severe cramping and bleeding in hopes of letting this go without surgery, nothing in the immediate future but pain and sadness.
This is the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. The two people I love most in the world have both tried to kill themselves. Living through that, and the aftermath of that - those were the worst things that I ever lived through. Hours of uncertainty and hell and months of issues and counseling and things to live through. This is still harder. This is the worst thing I've ever been through.
Unplaying tetris is hard.
It comes from a former roommate of his. Joe was moving in with his fiance, into a house they'd just bought. He was packing up his stuff; it fit into about 2 dozen boxes of various sizes. The only place to put them as they filled was one tiny corner of the kitchen. He referred to the growing stack as his version of 3D Tetris. Of course, once all the boxes were packed and he was getting ready to close on the house, a question arose about a supposed late charge on a credit card Joe hadn't used in years. In order to dispute the charge and have it removed from his credit report, so they could in fact get the rate they were supposed to have and close on time, Joe had to find the card - which had been packed early on and was now in one of the boxes stacked underneath all the others. His comment as he undid all his hard work - "Playing 3D Tetris was really hard. Unplaying Tetris is harder."
That's what the past couple of days have been. Unplaying tetris. Untelling all the good news; taking back all the happiness and hope of the last 6 weeks and making it sadness and grief. Undoing all the dreams we had for the future. Readjusting to not being pregnant. Readjusting to the thought of having to try again, wondering if we will ever have a baby. I'm not sure I can ever voluntarily put myself in a position to do this ever again. Realizing that every thing I've gone through in the last 6 weeks - every scare, every worry, every wave of nausea, each food aversion, all the hours lost to sleep, to fatigue - all for nothing. For a dead baby that is still inside me, for a body that doesn't understand that even though there was every symptom under the sun - severely felt, at that - the baby isn't there and will never be there. Waiting, hoping things happen on their own, having to call and possibly beg for drugs to induce severe cramping and bleeding in hopes of letting this go without surgery, nothing in the immediate future but pain and sadness.
This is the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. The two people I love most in the world have both tried to kill themselves. Living through that, and the aftermath of that - those were the worst things that I ever lived through. Hours of uncertainty and hell and months of issues and counseling and things to live through. This is still harder. This is the worst thing I've ever been through.
Unplaying tetris is hard.
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