Encouragement From a Long Lost Friend

I recently regained contact with a friend with whom I was once very close when I was younger, but lost touch with over the past 10 years.  I saw on Facebook that she was expecting a baby, so sent her a private message to congratulate her.  To my surprise, she responded by telling me that she and her husband were very excited to be parents, especially because they had experienced 3 miscarriages in the past 2 years.  Three miscarriages???  In two years??  My heart fell into my stomach and I began bawling.  I felt deep despair -- for her and her husband and their families.  But also for myself, and for anyone else who has been through this horrible experience.  And then I started thinking that if she could survive such a terrible thing THREE times, and still go on to try again and eventually have a healthy pregnancy.... maybe there was a little bit of hope for the rest of us?

She was very kind in her message and went into great detail about all 3 of her losses.  As I read, I cried and cried and cried.  I couldn't imagine how anyone could go through all of this and come out on the other side, still standing.  She ended her message by saying:

I wanted to share with you my (long) story because although it was really hard to go through, I did make it through and now I am pregnant!  I hope your journey is not as long and as painful.  Everyone would say to me after I miscarried that this is the way for nature to get rid of a pregnancy that wasn't going to work, or a baby that wouldn't have been healthy.  Nothing anyone said would help me to feel better.  Months after I would still randomly get upset about it.  Right now though, I can tell you that it is all worth it, and I don't think about all that I went through.  I'm just enjoying now and I am so grateful for this pregnancy.

and then...

Take care of yourself and think positively!  Good things happen to good people!  It's the way of the world and what you deserve!

Reading her words made it sound so easy to try to think positively, though thinking positively seems impossibly scary for me at this point.  But, after learning what this woman has been through, I do feel a slight glimmer of hope.  And I feel encouraged that if she could be so very strong and brave enough to try again and again and again, and to maintain hope that one day she'd get her miracle baby, that at the very least I should give it my best to try to follow in her footsteps...

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.