Today was my first day back to work and I dreaded it. Honestly, I considered calling out sick again. I didn’t want to get up and get dressed, like I hadn’t been through hell last week. And I really didn’t want to answer questions about how I was feeling or whether I had the flu or hear any of my co-workers well-meaning concerns over my absence. Even though I know their hearts are all in the right place, they have no idea what I’ve been through, and I have no interest in enlightening them. But that makes it hard to go back to work when I don’t want to make small talk or pretend I’m “all better” (as if recovering from a common cold). A couple people asked what was wrong with me and I politely said I didn’t want to get into it, and luckily they left it at that.
I’d forgotten about the girl in HR who I think might be pregnant -- she’s very thin but lately seems to be sporting a mini belly bump and is often sitting on a chair in her cubicle with her feet propped up. I walked past her on the way to a bathroom break and all my emotions came flooding out. Why her? Why not me? Will it always feel like this?
I don’t want to be one of those women who glare at every pregnant woman or mother with hurtful envy, but I can’t help myself. I don’t understand why they get to have their babies and I can’t have mine.
Tonight I played the blame game, big time. Why did the doctor prescribe me those medications without my permission? Why didn’t I ask more questions before heading down a course of treatment? Were they even 100% sure that there was no heartbeat before I began taking them? I honestly can’t remember the doctor confirming this point blank. Did I kill my own baby?? My husband recalls the doctor confirming there was no embryo when we met in the doctor’s office on Monday afternoon, but I don’t recall much of that meeting except that there was only one guest chair so she had to drag another one in from the waiting room. What if they just didn’t see it in there? Seeing an embryo without a heartbeat seems different than not seeing anything at all. I know it was in there -- we saw it just a couple weeks ago. What if they weren’t looking in the right place, or missed it on the ultrasound? Oh my God, the agony to think I may have taken those drugs prematurely...
Today I came across this article and it scared me to death: http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/01/10/finding-hope-after-miscarriage/. I barely survived this miscarriage, and the only reason I didn’t have a complete breakdown is thanks to my husband. He loved me like I’ve never felt loved before, even when his own heart was breaking. I honestly don’t know how this woman coped. If this were to happen to me again I don’t know what I would do.
It's a fear I have as well. After my miscarriage (I forget how long after), my husband said to me, "well if this happens again, we'll know how to cope with it better next time." I know he meant well, but the thought of "next time" was totally out of the question. Still is! I know he meant that it was a big deal for him to learn how to support me with this and get the support he needed too. My hormones were all over the place and I was so sad. He is more of a black & white/science/math brain and definitely approached all of this from a numbers perspective, it's not that uncommon and we'll make another one! Of course, sad, but not in the same way I felt. i still have fears of it happening again next time, but try to acknowledge and then move on from those thoughts. I can SO relate.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading, and for relating. I'm glad to know that I'm not the only one scared at the thought of a repeat occurrence. As much as I do want to try again, I'm afraid that no matter what the timing it will always be with more trepidation. But as you said, acknowledging your feelings it the best way to deal with them and try to get past fears.
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