It is nearing the end of October, which is, in case anyone has forgotten, Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. I haven't written about it yet (although considering I've been up to my eyeballs living in newborn-sleep-deprivation-land, it's a minor achievement to post anything at all). That doesn't mean I haven't been thinking about it, and how my life has changed over the past year.
Last year at this time I was grieving pretty hard. Two losses in a year is certainly enough to put anyone off kilter. It was all I thought about, all I wrote about. And here I am, a year later, typing one-handed as I cradle my 5 week old nursling in my other arm.
Am I a better parent now because I have experienced loss? I sincerely doubt that. Am I a more appreciative parent? That is a possibility. I think back to what I took for granted with SchmoopyBoy, all the gratitude I did not indulge in. Granted, in the throws of my postpartum depression, I was more or less incapable of gratitude, but that feels like such a waste now. I look down at this dear, perfect child and the tenderness I feel for him is matched only by the gratitude I have for him. For Him - the child that lived, the child that I thought might never be.
He is worth the wait. But there is still some... regret? sadness? bitterness? that such a wait was imposed. Was he not yet ready to be born? Was I not yet ready to receive him? I may never understand the whys, and I may always wonder who might be here in his stead, had one of those other babies lived.
Does that make me a worse parent now because I have experienced loss? I doubt that. Am I a slightly more wistful parent? That is a possibility.
Such are the laws of physics and family building - for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. There is appreciation, but also wistfulness. There is joy, but also sadness. There is looking forward to the future, but also remembering and honoring the past. There is marveling at what I have, but also wondering about what I don't have.
Most of the time I am absolutely more connected with the positives - appreciation for what I have and looking forward to the future with my family. To be honest, I am rarely connected with the opposites. It's pretty tough to focus on negatives when you have such a soft-haired, cuddly pile of baby to gush over. Nonetheless, I can't help but grow thoughtful about these things when I look back to where I was at this time just one short year ago.
Showing posts with label miscarriage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label miscarriage. Show all posts
Monday, October 24, 2011
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Oh, the irony
How is it that the one person in my office that has had 2 miscarriages this year ended up being the person to plan a baby shower for another woman in the office?
You see, it goes like this. The department Chief is sitting next to me at a meeting. The meeting is pretty much over but people are lingering and chit chatting. He turns directly to me and says "So is anything being planned for A? When is the baby shower going to be?" or something very similar to the effect, when in fact he actually means "I think you should organize a baby shower for A."
Before anyone goes off on "the audacity!" of the division chief, let me just say up front that this was not a completely unreasonable request.
First, and probably most relevantly, I am the last person in the office that birthed a baby and received an office baby shower. It seems appropriate that the last person to receive a shower should be the one organizing the next one. Based on a comment from another co-worker in the office, this may be a tradition in the office that I had not been aware of due to my relatively short tenure here, and the low number of baby-producing people in the office (most people in the office either have older children, or are single and not presently looking to have children).
Secondly, it's not like I advertise the fact that I'm experiencing struggles with fertility. Until very recently, there were only two people that even knew about my miscarriages. One of them was my boss, who I needed to tell because of the time I needed to take off from work to get all those darn blood tests. The other was a woman in another group with whom I had bonded over our mutually crunchy birthing and parenting styles. So, my division chief was not intentionally trying to be insensitive.
Still...Ouch. Yes, of course I'm happy to help... but Ouch.
I have to confess, I very well may have volunteered to help out with the planning even if I hadn't been asked. Because, you see, this woman and I have something shared - the common thread of infertility has touched us both. When I announced my pregnancy with SchmoopyBoy, she had been trying to conceive for 6 months. Now, three years later, after a costly failed IVF attempt and an attempt to adopt through the local foster-to-adopt program (the child she housed and fell in love with was ultimately placed with his biological father), now she is birthing a child of her own. I am truly so happy for her.
Throughout her pregnancy she has been positively beaming with happiness. I will admit it was hard to be around during the worst of my most recent loss. Trigger after trigger would leave me staring blankly behind my desk, struggling to function. But then I think to myself, how many times must I have unwittingly triggered her? When I was waddling around the office as big as a house, was I merely a reminder to her of what seemed out of reach? I wonder now how many times I carelessly and insensitively talked about my young child in her presence, perhaps complaining about lack of sleep, all without a second thought as to how she might have been triggered into sadness or envy or hopelessness or frustration.
Oh, the irony now that the tables are turned.
She never expressed a single negative thought towards me. She attended my office baby shower. She smiled at my stories. She absolutely deserves no less from me. This office baby shower is not about me or my struggles. It is about her achieving parenthood after a long and challenging journey. It is about celebrating her new daughter and her role as birthing mother.
I am not being facetious when I say that I am truly happy for her, and that I was glad to help with her shower. All I'm saying is...
Oh, the irony.
You see, it goes like this. The department Chief is sitting next to me at a meeting. The meeting is pretty much over but people are lingering and chit chatting. He turns directly to me and says "So is anything being planned for A? When is the baby shower going to be?" or something very similar to the effect, when in fact he actually means "I think you should organize a baby shower for A."
Before anyone goes off on "the audacity!" of the division chief, let me just say up front that this was not a completely unreasonable request.
First, and probably most relevantly, I am the last person in the office that birthed a baby and received an office baby shower. It seems appropriate that the last person to receive a shower should be the one organizing the next one. Based on a comment from another co-worker in the office, this may be a tradition in the office that I had not been aware of due to my relatively short tenure here, and the low number of baby-producing people in the office (most people in the office either have older children, or are single and not presently looking to have children).
Secondly, it's not like I advertise the fact that I'm experiencing struggles with fertility. Until very recently, there were only two people that even knew about my miscarriages. One of them was my boss, who I needed to tell because of the time I needed to take off from work to get all those darn blood tests. The other was a woman in another group with whom I had bonded over our mutually crunchy birthing and parenting styles. So, my division chief was not intentionally trying to be insensitive.
Still...Ouch. Yes, of course I'm happy to help... but Ouch.
I have to confess, I very well may have volunteered to help out with the planning even if I hadn't been asked. Because, you see, this woman and I have something shared - the common thread of infertility has touched us both. When I announced my pregnancy with SchmoopyBoy, she had been trying to conceive for 6 months. Now, three years later, after a costly failed IVF attempt and an attempt to adopt through the local foster-to-adopt program (the child she housed and fell in love with was ultimately placed with his biological father), now she is birthing a child of her own. I am truly so happy for her.
Throughout her pregnancy she has been positively beaming with happiness. I will admit it was hard to be around during the worst of my most recent loss. Trigger after trigger would leave me staring blankly behind my desk, struggling to function. But then I think to myself, how many times must I have unwittingly triggered her? When I was waddling around the office as big as a house, was I merely a reminder to her of what seemed out of reach? I wonder now how many times I carelessly and insensitively talked about my young child in her presence, perhaps complaining about lack of sleep, all without a second thought as to how she might have been triggered into sadness or envy or hopelessness or frustration.
Oh, the irony now that the tables are turned.
She never expressed a single negative thought towards me. She attended my office baby shower. She smiled at my stories. She absolutely deserves no less from me. This office baby shower is not about me or my struggles. It is about her achieving parenthood after a long and challenging journey. It is about celebrating her new daughter and her role as birthing mother.
I am not being facetious when I say that I am truly happy for her, and that I was glad to help with her shower. All I'm saying is...
Oh, the irony.
Monday, November 15, 2010
What's been going on this past week?
For starters, I've been sick. Laid up on my back for a couple of days. It was amazingly awesome to take 4-hour naps two days in a row late last week. No worries about getting “too much sleep” here - now that I am better my usual insomnia over the past 2 nights has rendered me as sleep deprived and semi-functional as ever. Oh, the joy of insomnia.
What else is going on? Let’s see. About a month ago I had enough blood drawn to feed a small family of vampires to see if any reason could be determined for the miscarriages I’ve experienced this year. As my doctor suspected, everything came back normal. Which leaves modern western medicine to say, “There doesn’t appear to be anything we can do to help you. Better luck next time.”
Which leaves me to say, “To heck with modern western medicine, what else can I investigate?”
So now I am currently undergoing a series of rolfing sessions on my internal organs to make sure that everything is structurally aligned properly. Apparently, structural tilts and improper alignments of the uterus and nearby organs can impact whether or not a uterus can carry a baby to term, or so it is hypothesized in rolfing circles. During the past two sessions, I discovered:
1) I have a large liver. It was stuck to my large intestine, but is now free and “happy” to move around at will.
2) My entire reproductive system was pulling towards the left hand side of my body, but is now straightened out.
Do I sound like some kind of hippy, alternative medicine nut? I ask because I kind of feel like one while writing this.
What else is going on? Let’s see. About a month ago I had enough blood drawn to feed a small family of vampires to see if any reason could be determined for the miscarriages I’ve experienced this year. As my doctor suspected, everything came back normal. Which leaves modern western medicine to say, “There doesn’t appear to be anything we can do to help you. Better luck next time.”
Which leaves me to say, “To heck with modern western medicine, what else can I investigate?”
So now I am currently undergoing a series of rolfing sessions on my internal organs to make sure that everything is structurally aligned properly. Apparently, structural tilts and improper alignments of the uterus and nearby organs can impact whether or not a uterus can carry a baby to term, or so it is hypothesized in rolfing circles. During the past two sessions, I discovered:
1) I have a large liver. It was stuck to my large intestine, but is now free and “happy” to move around at will.
2) My entire reproductive system was pulling towards the left hand side of my body, but is now straightened out.
Do I sound like some kind of hippy, alternative medicine nut? I ask because I kind of feel like one while writing this.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Picture Thursday
This post is long overdue. I meant to post these pictures as a sort of weekend wrap up on Sunday or Monday, and here it is Thursday, almost to the next weekend! Anyway, I'm calling the theme of this weekend Circle of Life - Remembrance and Renewal.
First, Remembrance- My balloon from the Walk to Remember, with the dates I said good-bye to my babies:
And now, Renewal - The first limes from the lime tree in my back yard:
First, Remembrance- My balloon from the Walk to Remember, with the dates I said good-bye to my babies:
And now, Renewal - The first limes from the lime tree in my back yard:
*******************************
This post is part of a series I am writing for Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month that I am calling PILAM 2010. I will be writing about pregnancy loss periodically throughout the month of October. As posts are added to the series I will add the links on all applicable posts.
My intro to PILAM 2010 is October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month and includes resources in the Las Vegas area.
For reasons on why I am writing about pregnancy loss, see Why I write about miscarriage.
For ideas on ways to commemorate Pregnancy and Infant Loss Rememberance Day, see What Can You Do.
A poem commemorating Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day is posted for October 15, 2010
My post-October 15th weekend wrap-up is at Picture Thursday.
Friday, October 15, 2010
PILAM 2010: A poem for Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day
This poem came in the packet given to me at the Resolve Through Sharing group. I thought this day would be appropriate to post it.
To The Child In My Heart
Author-unknown
Precious, tiny sweet little one
You will always be to me
So perfect, pure and innocent
Just as you were meant to be
We dreamed of you and your life
And all that it would be
We waited and longed for you to come
And join our family.
We never had a chance to play,
To laugh, to rock, to wiggle.
We long to hold you, touch you now
And listen to you giggle.
I'll always be your mother.
He'll always be your dad.
You will always be our child,
the child we wish we had.
But now you are gone... but yet you're here
We will sense you everywhere.
You are our sorrow and our joy,
There's love in every tear.
Just know our love goes deep and strong
We'll forget you never
The child we had, but never had,
And yet will have forever.
To The Child In My Heart
Author-unknown
Precious, tiny sweet little one
You will always be to me
So perfect, pure and innocent
Just as you were meant to be
We dreamed of you and your life
And all that it would be
We waited and longed for you to come
And join our family.
We never had a chance to play,
To laugh, to rock, to wiggle.
We long to hold you, touch you now
And listen to you giggle.
I'll always be your mother.
He'll always be your dad.
You will always be our child,
the child we wish we had.
But now you are gone... but yet you're here
We will sense you everywhere.
You are our sorrow and our joy,
There's love in every tear.
Just know our love goes deep and strong
We'll forget you never
The child we had, but never had,
And yet will have forever.
*******************************
This post is part of a series I am writing for Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month that I am calling PILAM 2010. I will be writing about pregnancy loss periodically throughout the month of October. As posts are added to the series I will add the links on all applicable posts.
My intro to PILAM 2010 is October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month and includes resources in the Las Vegas area.
For reasons on why I am writing about pregnancy loss, see Why I write about miscarriage.
For ideas on ways to commemorate Pregnancy and Infant Loss Rememberance Day, see What Can You Do.
A poem commemorating Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day is posted for October 15, 2010
My post October 15th weekend wrap-up is at Picture Thursday.
Monday, October 11, 2010
PILAM 2010: What can you do?
I recently discovered the I Am The Face campaign, which is doing something pretty cool for National Pregnancy/Infant Loss Awareness Day this year. Their stated goal is "to raise $2000 for the 2000 women who lose a baby each day, and to 'put a face' pm the taboo issue of pregnancy and infant loss." They are trying to get 2000 women who have experienced miscarriage, stillbirth, or infant loss to post pictures of their faces by October 15th. Donations will fo to Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope, which is "a nonprofit organization with a mission of providing support and resources for parents who have lost a child through miscarriage, stillbirth, or infant loss and to spread awareness of pregnancy and infant loss throughout the greater community." To post a picture of yourself, click this link here.
Some other things you can do to mark October 15th are:
1. Light a candle for your child(ren)
2. Do a balloon release with your family and/or friends - you can attach a note to the balloon or write the child's name on it before releasing
3. Plant a tree in honor of your child(ren)
4. Attend a local event in your area
5. Write a poem or note and post it on your own blog, or ask to guest post on someone else's blog if you don't have one.
May you all find healing and warmth on October 15th.
Some other things you can do to mark October 15th are:
1. Light a candle for your child(ren)
2. Do a balloon release with your family and/or friends - you can attach a note to the balloon or write the child's name on it before releasing
3. Plant a tree in honor of your child(ren)
4. Attend a local event in your area
5. Write a poem or note and post it on your own blog, or ask to guest post on someone else's blog if you don't have one.
May you all find healing and warmth on October 15th.
*******************************
This post is part of a series I am writing for Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month that I am calling PILAM 2010. I will be writing about pregnancy loss periodically throughout the month of October. As posts are added to the series I will add the links on all applicable posts.
My intro to PILAM 2010 is October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month and includes resources in the Las Vegas area.
For reasons on why I am writing about pregnancy loss, see Why I write about miscarriage.
For ideas on ways to commemorate Pregnancy and Infant Loss Rememberance Day, see What Can You Do.
A poem commemorating Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day is posted for October 15, 2010
My post October 15th weekend wrap-up is at Picture Thursday.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
PILAM 2010: Why I write about miscarriage
Why the heck do I write so much about pregnancy loss? I mean, gosh, I have a gorgeous child already, why don’t I quit being such a downer and stick to poo-poo jokes and cute pictures?
Well, for starters and the most obvious reason – writing is therapeutic. My own losses are still fresh enough (can you believe my hCG levels are STILL not back to normal yet?!) that I do get relief from spilling my guts from time to time.
But it isn’t just about me and my own healing. I am very fortunate (or unfortunate as the case may be) to have the support of family and friends who have also experienced miscarriage and can relate to my experience. I am additionally fortunate to have a loving and supportive partner who listens to me when I have a particularly bad day. But not all of us are so privileged.
There are a lot of us. I have found statistics that put the rate of miscarriage in the U.S. at anywhere from 25% to 33%. That’s a lot of women losing babies. And pregnancy loss does not discriminate. It affects women who are white and black, rich and poor, highly educated and illiterate. It can affect a childless woman during her first pregnancy and a woman with four children during her fifth pregnancy. (I do not dispute any evidence that pregnancy outcomes are worse for disadvantaged women, my point is that any woman of any race from any walk of life can lose a pregnancy without notice or obvious reason.)
It happens so very frequently and yet is something that, generally speaking, is not openly talked about much. We are not supposed to talk about it. As soon as the bleeding stops or the D&C is done we are expected to forget it ever happened and move on with our lives as though it were just another period or a procedure not much unlike the removal of a wart on the hand.
This is particularly true for women who have living children. Our grief is invalidated. Our cries silenced because “What are you complaining about? You have children. Why don’t you just get over it and focus on that?”
The loss is real. The grief is real. It is lasting. And I will not be silent.
I write to give voice to those who cannot speak without their feelings being invalidated. I write for those who cannot or will not, for whatever reason, write for themselves. I am not so pretentious as to claim to know what all women feel, for we all experience loss differently and process it uniquely in our own due time, but I write to pay homage to all my sisters in pregnancy loss and to honor and validate their experiences.
For if I speak, if I am heard, if I create awareness that this is indeed real, then perhaps any woman who suffers silent grief, whether as a fresh all-consuming wound or as an ever-present ghost in the furthermost crevice of her mind, might raise her voice and say out loud:
I feel sad. I feel lost. I feel hopeless. I feel scared.
My baby would have born this month. My baby would have turned four this month. My baby would have turned 40 this month... And I grieve anew every year at this time.
I mourn the baby I never had the chance to hold and hug, laugh with and delight in. Yes I love the children I have… But I also love the children I didn’t have.
And the people she from whom she most needs support, rather than saying “Get over it” will respond with empathy and love and warmth.
Be aware. Starting this year, this October, this Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, try to be sensitive, and just be aware.
Well, for starters and the most obvious reason – writing is therapeutic. My own losses are still fresh enough (can you believe my hCG levels are STILL not back to normal yet?!) that I do get relief from spilling my guts from time to time.
But it isn’t just about me and my own healing. I am very fortunate (or unfortunate as the case may be) to have the support of family and friends who have also experienced miscarriage and can relate to my experience. I am additionally fortunate to have a loving and supportive partner who listens to me when I have a particularly bad day. But not all of us are so privileged.
There are a lot of us. I have found statistics that put the rate of miscarriage in the U.S. at anywhere from 25% to 33%. That’s a lot of women losing babies. And pregnancy loss does not discriminate. It affects women who are white and black, rich and poor, highly educated and illiterate. It can affect a childless woman during her first pregnancy and a woman with four children during her fifth pregnancy. (I do not dispute any evidence that pregnancy outcomes are worse for disadvantaged women, my point is that any woman of any race from any walk of life can lose a pregnancy without notice or obvious reason.)
It happens so very frequently and yet is something that, generally speaking, is not openly talked about much. We are not supposed to talk about it. As soon as the bleeding stops or the D&C is done we are expected to forget it ever happened and move on with our lives as though it were just another period or a procedure not much unlike the removal of a wart on the hand.
This is particularly true for women who have living children. Our grief is invalidated. Our cries silenced because “What are you complaining about? You have children. Why don’t you just get over it and focus on that?”
The loss is real. The grief is real. It is lasting. And I will not be silent.
I write to give voice to those who cannot speak without their feelings being invalidated. I write for those who cannot or will not, for whatever reason, write for themselves. I am not so pretentious as to claim to know what all women feel, for we all experience loss differently and process it uniquely in our own due time, but I write to pay homage to all my sisters in pregnancy loss and to honor and validate their experiences.
For if I speak, if I am heard, if I create awareness that this is indeed real, then perhaps any woman who suffers silent grief, whether as a fresh all-consuming wound or as an ever-present ghost in the furthermost crevice of her mind, might raise her voice and say out loud:
I feel sad. I feel lost. I feel hopeless. I feel scared.
My baby would have born this month. My baby would have turned four this month. My baby would have turned 40 this month... And I grieve anew every year at this time.
I mourn the baby I never had the chance to hold and hug, laugh with and delight in. Yes I love the children I have… But I also love the children I didn’t have.
And the people she from whom she most needs support, rather than saying “Get over it” will respond with empathy and love and warmth.
Be aware. Starting this year, this October, this Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, try to be sensitive, and just be aware.
*******************************
This post is part of a series I am writing for Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month that I am calling PILAM 2010. I will be writing about pregnancy loss periodically throughout the month of October. As posts are added to the series I will add the links on all applicable posts.
My intro to PILAM 2010 is October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month and includes resources in the Las Vegas area.
For reasons on why I am writing about pregnancy loss, see Why I write about miscarriage.
For ideas on ways to commemorate Pregnancy and Infant Loss Rememberance Day, see What Can You Do.
A poem commemorating Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day is posted for October 15, 2010
My post October 15th weekend wrap-up is at Picture Thursday.
Friday, October 1, 2010
October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month
Did you know that October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month? Did you know that October 15th is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day?
On September 28, 2006, House Resolution # 222 was passed in the House of Representatives supporting the goals and ideals of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. The entire transcription from the US House of Representatives can be found on the official web site of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, http://october15th.com.
This is the time of year when local miscarriage support groups hold their annual Walks to Remember or other awareness activities. The link above contains information for many events around the country, but I noticed the local Walk is missing. So here's the information that I have:
Saturday, October 16
Children's Memorial Park
corner of Gowan and N. Rainbow
12:00 noon to 2:00pm
sponsored by Resolve Through Sharing (RTS)
This is a family event, any living children are welcomed and encouraged to attend.
SchmoopyBoy typically goes down for his nap during the time of the walk (figures) so I'll probably just go the first hour, depending on how he appears to be feeling.
For anyone in the area that is interested, RTS also holds a monthly support group meeting at Sunrise Hospital on the 2nd Tuesday of each month. You can get more information here. I went to the September meeting. I will confess I was unimpressed with the facilitator. I'll probably go one more time to give her another chance, but if I see the same things I saw last time I'm quite sure I will not be returning again. We'll see.
On September 28, 2006, House Resolution # 222 was passed in the House of Representatives supporting the goals and ideals of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. The entire transcription from the US House of Representatives can be found on the official web site of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, http://october15th.com.
This is the time of year when local miscarriage support groups hold their annual Walks to Remember or other awareness activities. The link above contains information for many events around the country, but I noticed the local Walk is missing. So here's the information that I have:
Saturday, October 16
Children's Memorial Park
corner of Gowan and N. Rainbow
12:00 noon to 2:00pm
sponsored by Resolve Through Sharing (RTS)
This is a family event, any living children are welcomed and encouraged to attend.
SchmoopyBoy typically goes down for his nap during the time of the walk (figures) so I'll probably just go the first hour, depending on how he appears to be feeling.
For anyone in the area that is interested, RTS also holds a monthly support group meeting at Sunrise Hospital on the 2nd Tuesday of each month. You can get more information here. I went to the September meeting. I will confess I was unimpressed with the facilitator. I'll probably go one more time to give her another chance, but if I see the same things I saw last time I'm quite sure I will not be returning again. We'll see.
*******************************
This post is part of a series I am writing for Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month that I am calling PILAM 2010. I will be writing about pregnancy loss periodically throughout the month of October. As posts are added to the series I will add the links on all applicable posts.
My intro to PILAM 2010 is October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month and includes resources in the Las Vegas area.
For reasons on why I am writing about pregnancy loss, see Why I write about miscarriage.
For ideas on ways to commemorate Pregnancy and Infant Loss Rememberance Day, see What Can You Do.
A poem commemorating Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day is posted for October 15, 2010
My post October 15th weekend wrap-up is at Picture Thursday.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Update
Well, I’m feeling better this week. My oldest and dearest friend came out to visit for my birthday last weekend. It was great to see her and get some girl time. Plus no one has said anything to my face to trigger my fury this week so far, so I haven’t felt the need to go off on any foul-mouthed rages in real life or online :)
We’re taking a road trip to California this weekend for the holiday. Ever since I told SchmoopyBoy about our upcoming trip, he’s been requesting to go to the beach. Fortunately, a beach day has been in the plan all along. The last several trips we’ve made out there the weather has been horrible, so hopefully we’ll finally get lucky with some mild weather so we can go to the beach and have some fun. My sister-in-law is taking her kids Laguna Beach this weekend too, so we’ll meet up with them while we’re there.
I was hoping to post another recipe this week, but the one I thought would be good ended up not turning out quite as interesting as I had hoped. So you’ll have to wait until I tweak the flavoring and get it right for that one. In the meantime eat well, sleep well, and have a great Labor Day weekend!
We’re taking a road trip to California this weekend for the holiday. Ever since I told SchmoopyBoy about our upcoming trip, he’s been requesting to go to the beach. Fortunately, a beach day has been in the plan all along. The last several trips we’ve made out there the weather has been horrible, so hopefully we’ll finally get lucky with some mild weather so we can go to the beach and have some fun. My sister-in-law is taking her kids Laguna Beach this weekend too, so we’ll meet up with them while we’re there.
I was hoping to post another recipe this week, but the one I thought would be good ended up not turning out quite as interesting as I had hoped. So you’ll have to wait until I tweak the flavoring and get it right for that one. In the meantime eat well, sleep well, and have a great Labor Day weekend!
Friday, August 27, 2010
Here’s a clue…
because I am amazed at just how many people need to catch one.
It is not necessary to remind a woman how old she is the week after she birthed a dead baby embryo into a toilet. It is also not necessary to tell her that her eggs are probably no good because of her age.
First, the vast majority of women know how old they are.
Second, if the woman is over the age of 35, I can assure you the thought has already crossed her mind that her age might be related to the pregnancy loss. She doesn’t need you to remind her. Seriously. Most women over the age of 35 have been hearing the news for quite some time that age matters when it comes to fertility. We know this. You aren’t adding any new additional helpful information, and quite frankly, shoving it into a woman’s face when she’s obviously grieving is FUCKING INSENSITIVE.
It is not necessary to remind a woman how old she is the week after she birthed a dead baby embryo into a toilet. It is also not necessary to tell her that her eggs are probably no good because of her age.
First, the vast majority of women know how old they are.
Second, if the woman is over the age of 35, I can assure you the thought has already crossed her mind that her age might be related to the pregnancy loss. She doesn’t need you to remind her. Seriously. Most women over the age of 35 have been hearing the news for quite some time that age matters when it comes to fertility. We know this. You aren’t adding any new additional helpful information, and quite frankly, shoving it into a woman’s face when she’s obviously grieving is FUCKING INSENSITIVE.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
You know what I need?
I need a way to cope that doesn’t involve poisoning my body with junk food (seriously not productive – this is the only body I’ve got, and I need it to be in good condition if I want it to be a place where a developing baby can thrive)
or lying in bed when I should be sleeping, imagining myself screaming angry obscenities at insensitive jackasses.
or lying in bed when I should be sleeping, imagining myself screaming angry obscenities at insensitive jackasses.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Let's take a step back, shall we?
It has come to my attention through a bit of feedback that my last post was a bit... ehem... Out there. Abrupt. Perhaps a bit harsh.
Perhaps that gives you a clue to my current state of mind, at least.
Anyway, by means of explanation, in case my last post wasn't altogetherly clear, I had another miscarriage. My second in a row. I'm reeling quite a bit because I really wasn't expecting it this time around.
Everything seemed to going well. I went in for two blood tests. HCg levels high and rising. Good. Progesterone levels high. Good. Ultrasound showing heartbeat. Good. Blip on the ultrasound screen measuring at 0.5 cm, timing it at 6 weeks 1 day. A little younger than I was expecting but my cycles are long and slightly irregular (31-35 days typically) so OK. The doctor says "See you in 4 weeks." OK, good.
I've been tired. I've been moody. I've been hungry. Yes, I know that sounds just like my normal everyday self, but I was even more tired and moody and hungry than my usual self. And I got nauseous. If I went for too long without eating a little bit, or if I ate too much at one time, I would get nauseous. And so I thought everything was progressing as it should be. I bought some new super cute newborn size cloth diapers that I found on sale. I got a stylish new nursing cover.
Then I go to the doctor. I should be at about 10 1/2 weeks by now. Ultrasound on my belly isn't showing anything. Hmm. Doctor wants to go transvaginal. Delightful. I get an ultrasound probe. There's a large-ish blob. Everything is still. No heartbeat. The blob looks empty, but no, there's something tiny in there. A tiny blip that is measuring at 6 weeks 5 days.
My body has been lying to me for almost 4 weeks. The deception! And you see, this is what makes me so mad. The deception, the betrayal of my body. Leading me on, leading me to think that I had a viable developing baby growing inside me. The nausea! What about the nausea! Do you know, even the day after I found out it was dead, my body had the audacity to make me nauseous again!
This is what is killing me. The fact that now I don't think I can trust my body again. If I get pregnant again, it doesn't matter what symptoms I have or how long I have them. I just won't know. I won't have any idea if everything is ok or if I'm carrying another dead baby for a month.
My doctor was leaving town the next day for a week long vacation. So, we decided to give it one more week to see if my body would get the memo and start taking care of things on its own. We tentatively scheduled a d&c for the week he returns. Well, apparently I have either obsessed over it enough or people have been sending enough kind and healing thoughts, because on Tuesday night things started happening. I do not believe a d&c will be necessary at this point. I'm a little relieved because I wasn't exactly looking forward to carrying around a dead baby for another week and undergoing a surgical procedure. On the other hand I kind of wish I could have gotten the d&c because then they could have sent the tissue to a lab for some analysis to see if they could find a cause.
Thank you to my friends and family that have sent kind thoughts and support. This is a bit of a difficult time. I know I will get through it just fine, and I still haven't given up hope of having another child. Once my body finishes doing its thing and I've healed physically, I will focus on healing emotionally and figure out what my next steps are going to be.
Much love to everyone, and sticky baby dust to everyone who needs it!!
Perhaps that gives you a clue to my current state of mind, at least.
Anyway, by means of explanation, in case my last post wasn't altogetherly clear, I had another miscarriage. My second in a row. I'm reeling quite a bit because I really wasn't expecting it this time around.
Everything seemed to going well. I went in for two blood tests. HCg levels high and rising. Good. Progesterone levels high. Good. Ultrasound showing heartbeat. Good. Blip on the ultrasound screen measuring at 0.5 cm, timing it at 6 weeks 1 day. A little younger than I was expecting but my cycles are long and slightly irregular (31-35 days typically) so OK. The doctor says "See you in 4 weeks." OK, good.
I've been tired. I've been moody. I've been hungry. Yes, I know that sounds just like my normal everyday self, but I was even more tired and moody and hungry than my usual self. And I got nauseous. If I went for too long without eating a little bit, or if I ate too much at one time, I would get nauseous. And so I thought everything was progressing as it should be. I bought some new super cute newborn size cloth diapers that I found on sale. I got a stylish new nursing cover.
Then I go to the doctor. I should be at about 10 1/2 weeks by now. Ultrasound on my belly isn't showing anything. Hmm. Doctor wants to go transvaginal. Delightful. I get an ultrasound probe. There's a large-ish blob. Everything is still. No heartbeat. The blob looks empty, but no, there's something tiny in there. A tiny blip that is measuring at 6 weeks 5 days.
My body has been lying to me for almost 4 weeks. The deception! And you see, this is what makes me so mad. The deception, the betrayal of my body. Leading me on, leading me to think that I had a viable developing baby growing inside me. The nausea! What about the nausea! Do you know, even the day after I found out it was dead, my body had the audacity to make me nauseous again!
This is what is killing me. The fact that now I don't think I can trust my body again. If I get pregnant again, it doesn't matter what symptoms I have or how long I have them. I just won't know. I won't have any idea if everything is ok or if I'm carrying another dead baby for a month.
My doctor was leaving town the next day for a week long vacation. So, we decided to give it one more week to see if my body would get the memo and start taking care of things on its own. We tentatively scheduled a d&c for the week he returns. Well, apparently I have either obsessed over it enough or people have been sending enough kind and healing thoughts, because on Tuesday night things started happening. I do not believe a d&c will be necessary at this point. I'm a little relieved because I wasn't exactly looking forward to carrying around a dead baby for another week and undergoing a surgical procedure. On the other hand I kind of wish I could have gotten the d&c because then they could have sent the tissue to a lab for some analysis to see if they could find a cause.
Thank you to my friends and family that have sent kind thoughts and support. This is a bit of a difficult time. I know I will get through it just fine, and I still haven't given up hope of having another child. Once my body finishes doing its thing and I've healed physically, I will focus on healing emotionally and figure out what my next steps are going to be.
Much love to everyone, and sticky baby dust to everyone who needs it!!
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
What I haven't been writing about
but haven't been able to stop thinking about (except during the move this weekend - moving is a great distraction)...
The dead baby inside my uterus that won't leave.
Strike 2.
The dead baby inside my uterus that won't leave.
Strike 2.
Friday, February 5, 2010
My Pregnancy Loss Story
So I’m 7 weeks pregnant and I go to the bathroom at work for a routine pee, which, those of you who have been pregnant before will remember, is like every 10 minutes. As I was finishing I looked down. Upon seeing a toilet full of red I just about jumped out of my skin and my first thought was “Gross! Some woman at work had her period and forgot to flush! EEUUWW! Why do people have to be so nasty?! I can’t believe I missed that when I came in!” (yep, when in doubt, blame someone else)
And then the second thought was “Wait a minute, how could I have missed that when I came in. Maybe it wasn’t already there. Maybe it’s…. me?” It was me.
Allow me to start from the beginning. On Friday, January 22, I tested positive for pregnancy. On Monday, January 25, I tested positive a second time. This was somewhat, but not much, of a surprise. We hadn’t been actively trying to conceive the way we were when trying for SchmoopyBaby. We were merely being what I like to call “consciously careless”.
So why didn’t I tell anyone? I felt good. More than that, I felt great. I felt FANTASTIC! I felt too good to be true. Anyone that’s known me for more than a couple of years knows how much I hated being pregnant with SchmoopyBaby. So sick I want to die – that’s the feeling I associate with a healthy pregnancy. This feeling great business – I didn’t trust it. So I kind of had it in the forefront of my mind that this pregnancy could very well end in miscarriage. That is why, after over a week, we told no one but our immediate families.
After the bathroom incident I called my doctor’s office. They had me come in for a blood test and then told me I’d need to come back in 2 days for a follow up blood test. My first results were not good. My hormone levels were lower than they should be for a healthy, viable pregnancy. The writing was on the wall. Of course, I hadn’t stopped bleeding the entire time, so it was completely obvious to me what was happening.
I got official confirmation from my doctor’s office this morning. My hCG level on Monday was 238. On Wednesday it was 61. I called John to let him know the news, and then I broke down. I made a quick dash to the bathroom so no one at the office would see or hear me cry. I don’t know why that phone call affected me so strongly when I already knew I had miscarried. I already knew, I had already accepted, I had already made peace and moved on. There is something about hearing an official diagnosis that somehow makes it more, I don’t know, real, concrete, official.
So why am I sharing this bad news now? I’m sad. I both want to talk about it and don’t want to talk about it, which is why I’m sharing it in the form of a written story. I know it’s very impersonal, but calling everyone I’m close to and telling everyone and talking about it and rehashing it multiple times is not something I am particularly up for at the moment.
Even though I am sad now, I will be fine. Like I said, I was kind of psychologically preparing myself for this possibility, and have more or less made peace with it. Everything happens for a reason, this was just not the right time. SchmoopyBaby still needs me, and I’m not really ready to make him share me yet. He’s not 100% weaned and I was really hoping to have him weaned before I got pregnant again. This takes off the pressure of trying to wean him by some deadline before he’s really ready. I know several women who have tandem breastfed - more power to them, but I know my limits and that is one of them. I can nurse one child at a time, I don’t want to nurse two. Let’s face it, we weren’t really ready quite yet for #2.
Do you love the way I rationalize away any negative feelings? What? I’m a Virgo, that’s what we do.
So no more being careless for me. Next time (and yes, I’m reasonably sure there will be a next time) all necessary precautions will be taken until we are sure we are ready. I’ll eat better, take vitamins more regularly, all that good stuff that creates a healthy baby-making environment. Until then, I appreciate any happy thoughts you care to send my way.
And then the second thought was “Wait a minute, how could I have missed that when I came in. Maybe it wasn’t already there. Maybe it’s…. me?” It was me.
Allow me to start from the beginning. On Friday, January 22, I tested positive for pregnancy. On Monday, January 25, I tested positive a second time. This was somewhat, but not much, of a surprise. We hadn’t been actively trying to conceive the way we were when trying for SchmoopyBaby. We were merely being what I like to call “consciously careless”.
So why didn’t I tell anyone? I felt good. More than that, I felt great. I felt FANTASTIC! I felt too good to be true. Anyone that’s known me for more than a couple of years knows how much I hated being pregnant with SchmoopyBaby. So sick I want to die – that’s the feeling I associate with a healthy pregnancy. This feeling great business – I didn’t trust it. So I kind of had it in the forefront of my mind that this pregnancy could very well end in miscarriage. That is why, after over a week, we told no one but our immediate families.
After the bathroom incident I called my doctor’s office. They had me come in for a blood test and then told me I’d need to come back in 2 days for a follow up blood test. My first results were not good. My hormone levels were lower than they should be for a healthy, viable pregnancy. The writing was on the wall. Of course, I hadn’t stopped bleeding the entire time, so it was completely obvious to me what was happening.
I got official confirmation from my doctor’s office this morning. My hCG level on Monday was 238. On Wednesday it was 61. I called John to let him know the news, and then I broke down. I made a quick dash to the bathroom so no one at the office would see or hear me cry. I don’t know why that phone call affected me so strongly when I already knew I had miscarried. I already knew, I had already accepted, I had already made peace and moved on. There is something about hearing an official diagnosis that somehow makes it more, I don’t know, real, concrete, official.
So why am I sharing this bad news now? I’m sad. I both want to talk about it and don’t want to talk about it, which is why I’m sharing it in the form of a written story. I know it’s very impersonal, but calling everyone I’m close to and telling everyone and talking about it and rehashing it multiple times is not something I am particularly up for at the moment.
Even though I am sad now, I will be fine. Like I said, I was kind of psychologically preparing myself for this possibility, and have more or less made peace with it. Everything happens for a reason, this was just not the right time. SchmoopyBaby still needs me, and I’m not really ready to make him share me yet. He’s not 100% weaned and I was really hoping to have him weaned before I got pregnant again. This takes off the pressure of trying to wean him by some deadline before he’s really ready. I know several women who have tandem breastfed - more power to them, but I know my limits and that is one of them. I can nurse one child at a time, I don’t want to nurse two. Let’s face it, we weren’t really ready quite yet for #2.
Do you love the way I rationalize away any negative feelings? What? I’m a Virgo, that’s what we do.
So no more being careless for me. Next time (and yes, I’m reasonably sure there will be a next time) all necessary precautions will be taken until we are sure we are ready. I’ll eat better, take vitamins more regularly, all that good stuff that creates a healthy baby-making environment. Until then, I appreciate any happy thoughts you care to send my way.
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