Looking at the date the last entry was written brings back thoughts of the swirl of ups and downs that we've been through these 4 months. December 5th is the posting date, although it was sometime just after midnight that morning. The 5th was J's 35th birthday, and was business as usual, until I decided that maybe there was something to his recent pestering that he thought I was pg. I had told myself the day before that, just in case he was right, I wanted to find out on Christmas, just 3 weeks away, like we did last time with L. C surprised us with her test being on our 2nd wedding anniversary, and we liked having a symbolic 'holiday'. Then, when I got with it and realized it was J's birthday that day, I thought that might be kind of cool - if he was right, which I didn't think he was.
So L and I picked a test or two up at Wal-Mart, and within an hour, I knew we were on the road to being a party of five! I was THRILLED (a little shocked - but soooo happy!) This was not a particularly planned baby, but VERY MUCH WANTED!!! We had discussed the possibility more than once in the past few months. I couldn't wait for J to get home - I took a little picture frame, and put inside - written on scrapbooking paper that said "baby" in different fonts all over it, "You were right! Love, Me" - and put it where he would see it as he would be changing for dinner that night.
I expected an 'I told you so,' but what I got was the happy dance and "I want to tell everyone TONIGHT!" With the miscarriage a couple of years ago, we were slow to tell many people because there were some troubles with one of the babies since the beginning, plus the disbelief that there were two, so we were going to wait until my birthday to make the announcement, but sadly, the announcement was not what we had expected. So this time, we did - we told everyone, even the kids.
I had instant good feelings about this pregnancy. In fact, only 3 days later, I was dreadfully sick and stayed that way until last week of January. Thanksgiving and Christmas are a blur to me now, as I couldn't enjoy the seasonal foods or even feel like wrapping, decorating, etc. with the extreme nausea and headaches. Of course, through the misery and laying around, I had plenty of time to think about how awesome it was that we would have three - and then a wave of absolute fear would creep in and I would think, 'WHAT HAVE WE DONE!!'. Especially guilt. Lots of that for C & L. I was pretty much bipolar in my thoughts some of the time, but really do love being pregnant, and expected the sickness to subside any day. Mom even cheered me up one day with a very productive and exciting shopping trip to the Motherhood store. We CLEANED HOUSE on the clearanced Pea in a Pod and Mimi items. They were beautiful!
We were at a friends' 40th birthday party one Saturday night at the end of January when I realized that I felt GREAT!! I looked a heck of a lot better, too. There was no denying the need for maternity clothes and I wore one of my favorite outfits that night. Lots of those, "Oh, you're glowing!" compliments, and I really needed them after those last 8 weeks. I ate real food, and a normal amount and thought, "YES! I am me again!" The next day was good too, so I went ahead and bought in to the idea that things were going to start looking up.
That Wednesday was my 4 month check-up. I was excited to finally sound a lot less whiney to Dr. M. and hear the heart beat again. The last appt.'s heartbeat was 178, he said it 'sounded like a girl' to him. All was good as I went in for the lab work, where all started going not-so-good. I'll not be graphic, but the signs of distress showed up right there in the dr.'s office, which in retrospect, was a blessing. In the exam room, neither the nurse or Dr. M. could find a heartbeat, but both repeatedly assured me everything was probably fine, and this happens alllll the time. So, since it was Wed., the ultrasound tech was up and ready so she would fit me in so that I didn't have to go home wondering...thank you?
2 hours later, we have ultrasound. It took no time for the baby to be VERY visible (they have a 52" plasma ultrasound screen now) and it was only 6 feet in front of me. There was this perfect-looking little baby. The head, body, limbs, all proportionate. I heard lots of clicking from the tech, and as she sees me smiling as I'm just going back and forth from head to toe with my eyes, she stops me by placing her hand on mine and says, "There is no heartbeat, honey" so genuinely sorry, with tears in her eyes. (She later disclosed her only daughter had the same experience just two days prior, with her as the tech.)
Well it was just total disbelief from the beginning. I hadn't ever paid much attention to the 5 stages of grief, but from all that I have read since this day, I was pretty much working like a text-book case. I did not and could not BELIEVE her. Everything was fine - 'the sicker the mommy, the healthier the baby many times' - Dr. M. had said (and said). I was just here for a regular appt.! And my husband wasn't there - you don't find these things out alone. But I did, and it was horrible. I knew I'd start crying - I knew when it came it was gonna be big, and it was. Lasted for about 5 days (thank goodness for those amazing knock-you-on-your-butt pills from Dr. M).
We went back to Dr. M's office and spent an hour discussing - everything. J came at the very beginning. I just couldn't turn off that faucet and sobbed to where I don't remember much. But we decided the D&C should be performed as soon as possible, which was 5:30 the next morning.
I feel and felt so badly for how I treated and reacted to all the wonderful, caring, gentle nurses and doctors that took care of me until I was released around 3:30 that day. At first I felt numb, emotionally, and then the sadness came and I cried until I was anesthetically out. Then I woke up a little later than expected post-surgery to someone's ringtone that was Brahm's Lullaby. Now if that wasn't adding insult to injury! I yelled something out that I honestly can't remember and then just pulled the sheet over my head and I wouldn't take it off, even to talk to the staff. Pretty rude, but I couldn't face it anymore, it just made it all too real.
From all the reading I have done from the prior miscarriage and now this one, I feel better prepared for my feelings and for the reactions of others. Some people reach right out there, maybe they've been there, maybe not, but they immediately see the need that you need people to 'check in' on you, even if you can't talk or verbalize anything yet. Some people bring food and their company. Some people are downright insensitive and may or may not have any idea they are being so. They really should have stayed home/not called. Oh happy day.
Some other people can empathize and understand what a lonely, isolated grieving it is. How no one else felt the movement, no one else lied around sick all day fantasizing about holding up this baby in the air and making faces at her, and feeling her soft, baby skin, rocking her to bed at night while singing her very own personal lullaby.
And then there are all the questions. My own question, the obvious one, "Why? Why would I get pregnant these times only to lose and lose again? Am I not fit? Am I too greedy while there are so many children out there to be adopted? Did I do something / eat something to cause this? Am I being punished?..." And then there is that continual question people ask that I just don't have the answer to: "Will you try again?" We just don't know. Sometimes I think absolutely, sometimes I think I just can't go through this again.
This is by far the most (only?) personal entry on this blog. We all deal with these things differently, and it's taken a while for me to talk/write openly like I have here, but I do know that each time I do, I feel a little more healed. I wouldn't wish this kind of sorrow on anyone, and if you don't know the sorrow first-hand, consider yourself lucky.
God knows what He's doing, all the time. My plans are not always His plans, and that's okay. One of my all-time favorite lines from one of my all-time favorite movies is from "Little Women" where Marmy is putting Jo to bed, tucking her in, and tells her that when she prays for her, she asks (among other things) that He sends only enough heartache as He sees fit." He saw fit. And I'm still here, and by golly I have two of the best kids I've ever met and am smitten with them from morning till night. Already, I've been able to identify with others who have gone through this tragedy recently (one experienced her loss the very same day) and we are a comfort to each other. When you think of running (for me) a mile and how hard that's gonna be, but then you see your friend run a mile and think, "Well, I think I can do it now," it's that kind of thought that helps me press on. It's also that I know I can't change these circumstances, but I can only learn and grow from them.
I'm really thinking that it's about time for some more lively posts, don't you?
Tune in...
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