Well, it looks like Aunt Flo has arrived. On the one hand, I'm relieved -- I guess this means my body is hopefully OK and trying to get back to "normal". On the other hand, experiencing menstruation after being pregnant is a harsh reminder that I'm no longer pregnant, in addition to being a very vivid reminder of the phsyical miscarriage process. I've never been fond of having my period {I'm sure many women feel this way} but this time it's much worse than a mere inconvenience. It feels as if I'm physically reliving my experience all over again. Will it always be like this?
And just in case getting my period isn't reminder enough that I no longer have a baby growing inside of me, I was posed a really difficult question to answer during a routing dental cleaning today. "You're not pregnant, are you?!" my dental hygienist exclaimed while she worked. Apparently my gums are puffy, which can be caused by hormones. I silently shook my head and somehow managed to hold in my tears until I left the office.
Nope, I'm not.
Friday, June 28, 2013
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Awaiting AF
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Where oh where is my Aunt Flo?!
My OB advised before my MVA that my regular AF should return within 4-6 weeks. But, I generally have shorter-than-typical cycles, so I've been expecting to receive it sooner than that. In fact, if this were a regular cycle, I probably would've received it by yesterday. I don't know why on Earth I thought the timing here might be predictable - nothing about this experience makes any sense to me whatsoever. I'm not even sure why I'm so anxious to get it; I certainly don't need any more reminders of the pregnancy I lost or the awful miscarriage process. I guess maybe I'm hoping that when AF arrives, there's a chance I might feel slightly "back to normal" again? {Whatever that means.} That, and the sooner it comes, the sooner we can "try" again. I know I can't, and wouldn't ever want to, replace the baby we lost -- but losing this pregnancy has reinforced for me how much I really want to be a mother.
It figures the one time I actually want my period to arrive, it's nowhere to be found...
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Check-In
{originally written June 20, 2013}
I'm doing better physically and somewhat mentally too {no more crying attacks on a daily basis}, but really still very confused, angry, and most of all very sad. Yesterday would've been 13 weeks, and I can't help thinking about who I'd be sharing the good news with, how I'd be shopping for maternity clothes, growing a noticeable belly, discussing name ideas...
I went for my follow-up yesterday and supposedly everything was okay, which I guess is good {though I'm not sure how she even knew that by a simple 3-minute cervical exam with no ultrasound...} but to be honest I keep hoping this is all a bad nightmare and I'll wake up one morning and be pregnant again.
I know in my head I am living the nightmare, but really truly wish it was the other way around. I honestly would not wish this experience on my worst enemy.
I'm doing better physically and somewhat mentally too {no more crying attacks on a daily basis}, but really still very confused, angry, and most of all very sad. Yesterday would've been 13 weeks, and I can't help thinking about who I'd be sharing the good news with, how I'd be shopping for maternity clothes, growing a noticeable belly, discussing name ideas...
I went for my follow-up yesterday and supposedly everything was okay, which I guess is good {though I'm not sure how she even knew that by a simple 3-minute cervical exam with no ultrasound...} but to be honest I keep hoping this is all a bad nightmare and I'll wake up one morning and be pregnant again.
I know in my head I am living the nightmare, but really truly wish it was the other way around. I honestly would not wish this experience on my worst enemy.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Horoscopes
OK train monitor horoscopes, you're driving me mad. First you rub it in my face that I can travel anywhere I'd like, thanks to not having a baby on board. Then 2 days later you tell me to "Press the pause button on any travel plans you've been making. Things may change."
For a minute, I wondered if there could be some mistake. Could I still be pregnant? Is it possible that all that bleeding wasn't a miscarriage at all? Even if that were true (which I know in my head is not true but did briefly hope in my heart is possible), there was the MVA.
But why else would I have to press the pause button on travel plans??? Does this mean perhaps I might become pregnant again, soon? Or maybe it means I'll have another miscarriage. Or will I need fertility treatments?! The truth is, nobody knows.
Here's a better question: why am I even stressing about the myriad of possible circumstances that could cause me to cancel travel plans, because of a stupid train monitor horoscope???? I don't think these types of thought patterns are normal. Am I losing my mind, or is this part of the normal grieving process? Oh how I wish I could just rewind the clock a month, and be pregnant and happy again... Will that ever happen?
For a minute, I wondered if there could be some mistake. Could I still be pregnant? Is it possible that all that bleeding wasn't a miscarriage at all? Even if that were true (which I know in my head is not true but did briefly hope in my heart is possible), there was the MVA.
But why else would I have to press the pause button on travel plans??? Does this mean perhaps I might become pregnant again, soon? Or maybe it means I'll have another miscarriage. Or will I need fertility treatments?! The truth is, nobody knows.
Here's a better question: why am I even stressing about the myriad of possible circumstances that could cause me to cancel travel plans, because of a stupid train monitor horoscope???? I don't think these types of thought patterns are normal. Am I losing my mind, or is this part of the normal grieving process? Oh how I wish I could just rewind the clock a month, and be pregnant and happy again... Will that ever happen?
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
The Birth of a Blog
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I have been obsessed with the notion of starting a blog, but I can’t think of or decide on an appropriate name. I’m scared to choose a title that sounds too positive for fear of jinxing ourselves, and terrified of choosing something negative for the same reason. I’m pretty sure I won’t have any readers anyway, but for some reason it feels important for me to get my thoughts out of my head out onto the web. Maybe if someone comes across a post and it helps him or her cope in some small way, or I receive a comment from someone out there in the same boat as me, I won’t feel so isolated and hopeless. I want to have hope, honestly I do, but I’m having a really hard time mustering it.
{As you can see, I've been keeping a journal long before I created this blog. Now that my hubby and I have finally decided on a blog name, I'm migrating all my journal entries to their new home, and dated them accordingly. From here on out, this blog is our new journal. Thanks so much for taking this journey with us.}
I have been obsessed with the notion of starting a blog, but I can’t think of or decide on an appropriate name. I’m scared to choose a title that sounds too positive for fear of jinxing ourselves, and terrified of choosing something negative for the same reason. I’m pretty sure I won’t have any readers anyway, but for some reason it feels important for me to get my thoughts out of my head out onto the web. Maybe if someone comes across a post and it helps him or her cope in some small way, or I receive a comment from someone out there in the same boat as me, I won’t feel so isolated and hopeless. I want to have hope, honestly I do, but I’m having a really hard time mustering it.
{As you can see, I've been keeping a journal long before I created this blog. Now that my hubby and I have finally decided on a blog name, I'm migrating all my journal entries to their new home, and dated them accordingly. From here on out, this blog is our new journal. Thanks so much for taking this journey with us.}
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Flexible Phase
I didn’t cry today. To me, that is a big feat. I muddled my way through work, went to the gym for some exercise on the treadmill, ate dinner with my hubby, messed around with some home decor, and then fell asleep without any tears or pain medication. Although I did feel a stab of emotional pain today after reading my horoscope on the train video screens, which advised that any travel plans would be a great idea due to the “flexible phase I’m in”. To me, that was code for “you have no baby on the way” and it hurt. Badly.
Monday, June 10, 2013
Back to Work
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.
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.
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