Missing Our Baby

December 25th was the due date of our first baby, making this Christmas emotionally difficult for me.  I know I should be happy that we're currently pregnant again and have a new due date to look forward to, and I absolutely am -- but that doesn't erase the great sadness I still feel, thinking of our baby that was never meant to be and wishing instead that we were about to welcome him or her into the world.  When the doctors first calculated my due date as December 25th I was ecstatic that of all the days in the year our due date was Christmas Day!  I couldn't believe our luck, and couldn't possible have imagined or asked for a more perfect day to look toward.  Over and over I thought to myself what a true gift of love that baby would be!

Hearing Christmas carols on the radio and hanging stockings up by our fireplace brought back a lot of the feelings I felt back when I first miscarried and realized I'd never meet our first baby, and it's been a bit harder than I thought it would be to get into the Christmas spirit this year.  While I know I have so much to be grateful for in my life -- certainly more than I could even list on a blog -- some days it's hard not to focus on what we lost with that pregnancy.  Needless to say, this Christmas has been bittersweet... celebrating a new pregnancy while still mourning my first pregnancy. 

It might seem strange to miss a person I've never met, but I do.  I really do.  Especially during the past few weeks, when I'd once imagined I'd be preparing to meet my baby or possibly even have gotten the chance to snuggle him or her first the first time.

I wish all of you a Merry Christmas, and send lots of hugs to everyone out there missing a loved one.  The holidays can be merry and bright, but they can also be hard when you're missing the ones you love.

"Miss You Most (At Christmas Time)"

The fire is burning

The room's all aglow

Outside the December wind blows

Away in the distance

The carolers sing in the snow

Everybody's laughing

The world is celebrating

And everyone's so happy

Except for me tonight

Because... 

[Chorus:]

I miss you

Most at Christmas time

And I can't get you

Get you off my mind

Every other season comes along

And I'm all right

But then I miss you

Most at Christmas time

I gaze out the window

This cold winters' night

At all of the twinkling lights

Alone in the darkness

Remembering when you were mine

Everybody's smiling

The whole world is rejoicing

And everyone's embracing

Except for you and I

Baby...

Silent Tears

Source

Today would've marked the 19th week of my pregnancy.  I wonder how it would've felt to reach "the halfway mark"...

I'm nearing the point where I will have been "un-pregnant" for a longer period of time than I was pregnant.  I wonder how that will feel...

I've already been "un-pregnant" for a couple weeks longer than the period during which I knew I was in fact pregnant.  Unfortunately, if anything that fact only makes me feel worse, not better.

I also wonder if or when my brain will stop automatically calculating weekly gestation milestones each and every Wednesday...  Eventually, time will run out.  I would've never been 52 weeks pregnant even if I hadn't miscarried, so I guess this counting ritual technically can't go on much past December.

Eventually, it will be time to move on... time not to forget, but to focus on something new.  I can't imagine it but I guess that's the goal of the grieving process -- processing and accepting what has happened in order to move on.  Do I even want to move on?  Honestly, I'm not sure.  Will time heal this pain?  Only time will tell...

So tired.

This weekend I drove upstate to my aunt's house for a visit with my extended family.  Keep in mind that most of them do not know about my pregnancy and miscarriage experience.  This isn't because I'm ashamed or don't think it's appropriate to discuss the miscarriage, but moreso because I never got the chance to share the good news with them that we were expecting, and so didn't want their first exposure to our decision about growing our family to be negative.

When I got there, some of my family members commented on how tired I looked.  It was true, I hadn't slept well the night before thanks to a pulled muscle in my neck.

I am so tired.

I'm tired of being sad and tired of being angry.  And I'm tired of pretending that I'm not either of those things.  I'm really tired of crying, but also so tired of trying to hold my tears in.

When we first experienced our miscarriage in June, many kind people I turned to for support expressed their sympathy and encouraged me that things would get better with time.  I wanted to believe that, but when we got the call earlier this month about the genetic testing results, everything suddenly got worse, all over again.

Some happiness researchers suggest that acting the way you want to feel has a big impact on how you will actually feel.  Unfortunately in this case, neither acting happy nor acting un-sad is working for me.  I'm just all the more tired from plastering on a happy face while I got about my days, and I'm not sure how much longer I can "fake it till I make it". 

I really hope I can get back to my "normal" self soon, whatever that is.  I've tried really hard to get back to my typical routine, start once again to exercise consistently, eat more healthily, and spend time doing activities I enjoy.  And when I'm doing those things, I feel almost like my old self.  It's the in-between times and the quiet times at night as I will myself to fall asleep without placing my hand on my stomach or shedding tears that are the hardest.  Trying to lead a "normal" life is just so tiring.

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.

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?

The Day After

This was our first pregnancy and I'm absolutely devastated. I feel so confused because we had a healthy heartbeat of 141 at the 8 week ultrasound last month, and although I had brown spotting on and off since the beginning, I'd read online it was not uncommon and my OB didn't seem too concerned. I didn't have any morning sickness (except for a couple days where I felt a little queasy, but nothing too bad at all), though was tired and had other typical symptoms like sore breasts, frequent urination, belly bloating, and light headaches (which I hardly ever get). I just don't understand what went wrong because the first ultrasound seemed great, I was taking all my vitamins, drinking tons of water, and eating better than I think I've eaten in my life. My husband and I were religiously ensuring that I got 75 grams of protein a day and I didn't "cheat" on any dietary no-nos -- in fact I’ve been eating healthier and drinking more water than I ever remember. Although I realized before getting pregnant that miscarriages were always a possibility, I stupidly tricked myself into believing we were almost in the clear after the 8 week ultrasound detected a healthy heartbeat.

Today I am no longer in physical pain, but feel like an emotional basket case and really just want to stay in bed crying. My husband went back to work today and I feel so alone, partly because hardly anybody knew about the pregnancy and so we don't want to tell a lot of people about the miscarriage either. Our moms know, but don't live nearby, and I called my bff to break the news on Tuesday. She has been very supportive by checking in on me, and it helps to know she went through this 8 years ago before having her beautiful girls, but she also lives several hours away from me.

I was supposed to work from home today and tomorrow, but when I opened my laptop and saw all the work that had piled up, I couldn’t take it.... I broke down crying from a combination of frustration/anger/sadness/exhaustion/stress, and ended up emailing my director letting her know that I had an urgent medical situation and couldn’t work the rest of the week, despite the huge backlog of work I had and how strapped our team was for resources. To my surprise (I’m still not sure why I expected any less -- I think I was just so overwhelmed), she was incredibly supportive and knowing I didn’t have to deal with work for the next couple days provided some much-needed relief.

I spent the rest of the day in my pajamas, crying and watching soap operas.

In my brain, I understand that miscarriages are more common than they are discussed, and that chances are likely that the pregnancy wasn’t viable due to chromosomal abnormalities versus something I did or didn’t do. But I can’t help but wondering. What if we didn’t go to DR? What if I ate or drank something there that poisoned my baby? What if I can’t get pregnant again, or can’t carry a pregnancy to term? Just because many women go on to have healthy babies after a miscarriage doesn’t guarantee that I will.

MVA

By Tuesday afternoon my uterus lining had thinned a little, but not enough, so they scheduled me for a MVA on Wednesday morning. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday morning were full of agonizing pain, and I still needed the procedure on Wednesday after all that hell.

The MVA procedure was traumatizing to say the least and something I honestly wish I could forget entirely, though the cramping pain did decrease significantly about an hour or so after the procedure was completed. The procedure was physically painful and I didn’t know until a couple minutes before the procedure (when we stepped into the sono room to check on progress one last time) that my husband couldn’t stay in the room with me. I really wish the doctor would have mentioned this sooner, because I was not mentally prepared to go it alone and finding out minutes before really sent me into an emotional downturn. I had nothing to squeeze except a travel pack of tissues which I wring the life out of. Luckily, I’d brought an eye mask with me but that didn’t help much to ease the pain or fear I felt, alone in a room with 4 other medical personnel.

My husband was able to take the entire day off to accompany me to and home from the MVA, which helped me get through it all.

Officially a Miscarriage

Monday morning when I woke to urinate there was a lot of red blood but still no pain. I was able to shower and get dressed before calling my OB as soon as they opened to schedule an 11am appointment. I was still bleeding, but mostly only during urination. But, as soon as my husband left for work -- a little over an hour before my appointment I started having mild-moderate cramping. To me, it felt like constipation. I sat on the toilet eating a whole wheat English muffin, using all the mind power I could muster to try to remain calm and try to have a bowel movement, but nothing was coming out. The pain didn’t ease up, so I took a cab from home to the doctor’s office. The 30 minute ride was unbearable and as we got closer I knew something didn’t feel right. By the time I arrived at the dr's office I could feel that I was bleeding heavily. I can picture vividly my husband's face as I exited the elevator and told him that I could feel the bleeding. I burst into tears and was ushered in to provide a urine sample. As expected, it was full of blood. The nurse took my BP and weight (I still don’t understand why that was important) and left me in an exam room waiting for the doctor. The examination was incredibly painful -- I remember crying out that it hurt while the doctor tried to check to see if my cervix was still closed. I’m not sure she ever felt it, and she didn’t say much except to instruct us to go into the sonogram room. At this point, I still don’t think I knew what was about to happen.

I can’t remember what happened next -- the day turned into a blur. I’m not sure if the sono tech checked me before or after speaking, but I do remember her saying it was obvious my body was trying to get rid of the baby... I was having a miscarriage. This statement shocked me and broke my heart at the same time. I remember crying out and my husband holding my hand. He held my hand a lot over the next few days, and thinking back I’m honestly not sure how we was so strong when I was such a mess.

The OB sent me home with 4 methotrexate pills to take every 6 hours and orders to come back the following day for an ultrasound to check on progress.

The Beginning of the End

Of course I didn’t know it, but today was the beginning of the end. After a lazy morning having breakfast with my hubby, I decided I’d show Aunt B. a photo of our first ultrasound while doing a video chat via Facetime. The plan was to call her up and ask her to try Facetime out on my new mac, and then I’d randomly hold the ultrasound photo over the camera and record her reaction. Great idea, right?! Only things didn’t turn out that way. After getting out of the shower, I felt the urge to pee. I didn’t have any pains, but there was a certain discomfort in my pelvic area that made me pee before even getting my robe on.

Looking down, I saw bright red blood come out in my urine stream and immediately my heart sank. I threw my robe on, screamed for my husband, hopped into bed and propped my feet up on pillows. The time was 2:30pm. I called my OBGYN’s emergency service line and anxiously awaited areturn call. The on-call doctor happened to be the one I saw at my recent visits, and she returned the call within a few minutes. She asked whether I had fallen or had any cramps or pain (which I didn’t) and advised that unless I was soaking a pad an hour (which I wasn't -- the blood was really only coming out when I urinated) to wait until Monday morning to come in. For several hours after that call I laid in bed, scared to death. I knew bright red blood could be bad, but I didn’t have any pains and the blood only seemed to be coming out when I urinated. After doing some online research, I slept with my legs up on a pillow and hardly bled on my pad at all at night.