Posts tagged miscarriage

Where I Am – 6.13.12

Since I started this blog to keep track of all the crazy things going on in my head, I think it’s past time to update about where I am post-infant-loss, post-miscarriage, post-prescribed-meds. The miscarriage has brought up a lot of doubt in myself that I had successfully hidden overcome in the last 3 years. Had the miscarriage been my first loss, I believe it would have had a different impact. Because I carried to term a child I knew would not live long after birth, IF born alive, this seemed pale in comparison. Loss shouldn’t be compared. I’ll be the first to preach that. But they are both MINE so I do what I want! A person shouldn’t compare others’ loss. If someone dismissed my miscarriage because losing my son was so different, I’d be pissed. Just as if someone dismissed my full term loss because a) I knew he wouldn’t be coming home from the hospital with me or b) he was “just” a baby. Losing my child was devastating, but losing a pregnancy came with it’s own set of burdens. I am much more angry than I’m comfortable with. Running has helped tremendously. When I want to beat the hell out of someone, I know my run is not far away. It keeps me even. Emotionally level. I started running at the beginning of February and have been hitting the pavement (or the treadmill belt…gag) at least 3x per week since. Some days, I can’t wait to get K fed and dressed so I can get to it. Other days, like Monday, I put it off until NOON! I like…no…I LOOOOOVE my daily shower. It’s the time that I get alone (no dogs, no husband, no baby, no phone) and I don’t miss it for anything. I reward myself with a shower after my run. I am not allowed to take that shower until after my run on Mon/Wed/Fri. There have been a few exceptions, like if I want to wait until the hubs gets home so that I can run outside alone. Otherwise, I’m a slave-driver…er…to myself. Having my Dr. put me on an anti-depressant (for anxiety) helped my level of motivation, which had previously been at about a 1. And that came from preventing the “what did you do all day” looks from the hubs when he got home from work. Not that he ever said that, but I would totally be thinking it if I were him. Our relationship just runs smoother, like it used to, when I’m on this stuff. But then I talked to my Dr. about having more kids. We want one more living child. That’s it. I don’t want to be pregnant anymore than he wants to put up with my crazy, neurotic, pregnant self. But we have the same main goal in mind and that is two living children. In 10 years, I see two kids. Do I ever think I’ll want to be pregnant again or have a newborn? Not a chance. I can honestly say that it was awful. I was stressed to the MAX and, some days, am surprised our marriage survived it. At the end of the day, each of us are too stubborn to give up. We have made it 8 years (together, married for 6.5), through the loss of a child, raising a baby alone (he had started the new job, working long hours, etc) and a miscarriage. It’s been a journey! But we’ve had some pretty amazing ups to counter the downs. We are in this together and we’ll do what it takes to get what we want. Even if it means turning our lives upside down again.

We have decided to try [again] for another baby. I stopped taking the crazy pills last week and have been taking prenatal vitamins for about 2 months. My OB wants me on NOTHING while pregnant. She says there is no “safe” medication for pregnancy, there are just some that aren’t as bad as others. Basically, the depression or anxiety has to be so bad, that being off the meds would be worse than the potential side effects to the baby. It’s not to that point with me so as long as they are a month out of my system, I’m ready to try again. So it’s looking like, at the earliest, we could be expecting by March/April.

So there it is. Out there for the world to see. We are back on the baby train. Next stop, tying my tubes! Just kidding. After 3 c-sections, the hubs can get snipped, I’m sick of recovering.

I’m totally kidding, by the way. We don’t have a plan. I won’t make him get snipped and he won’t let them take any lady parts. But you know I’ll share as soon as something happens. 😉


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…Like A Fart In The Wind

As quickly as it came, it is gone.

As I got ready for bed Saturday night (after posting here that morning), I started bleeding. Sunday was the same…light, no cramping, just kind of there. This morning, I started light cramping and passing clots (sorry for the TMI, but anyone who has had a miscarriage understands this stuff…and if you haven’t but end up having one, God forbid, you know what happens and what to expect). Called the doctor this morning and had a nurse call me back. I basically told her I was miscarrying and asked what she wanted me to do. She gave me the option to stay home or come in and confirm it. I’m pregnant, bleeding, passing clots, cramping and the baby is measuring 2 weeks behind…I’m having a frickin miscarriage. I don’t need confirmation, I think the proof is in the last 3 days.

So there it is. 25 years old and I have one dead child, one lost pregnancy and one perfectly healthy, sweet little blessing. I’m not even sad. I just have this acceptance about it all. After losing Tyler, we know that pregnancy doesn’t mean baby so that’s not what we expect. We expect the unexpected. I could have a chemical pregnancy (because I like to test early, can’t help it!), early miscarriage (ding, ding, ding), second trimester miscarriage, stillbirth (I believe a loss after 20 weeks is classified this way), fatal or poor prenatal diagnosis or a condition unknown until the baby is born and examined. Oh, and the ultimate scenario…a healthy, take-home baby. Out of three pregnancies, we’ve only had one of those. Can you imagine having something like 5 kids with no losses? What a miracle and a true blessing. I hope those people know just how lucky they are. That is truly a dream-come-true for some (I don’t want 5!). It’s easy to forget that when you see women with big, pregnant bellies everywhere you turn. Surprisingly, I’m not sad or angry or bitter. I don’t want to blame anyone or anything and I certainly don’t blame myself this time. In the last few days since this all started, I’ve had one, tiny moment of blaming myself. Was it the half a chicken cesar wrap that I ate before remembering that I was pregnant? Or was it the cold cut trio from Subway that I had…again, very early when I forgot I was pregnant? Was it the local anesthesia or Tylenol I took when I had a minor, out-patient toe surgery (even though it is “safe while pregnant”)? Those things went through my head for about 2 seconds. But what it boils down to is that I didn’t do anything wrong. One cold lunch meat sandwich or half a cesar wrap didn’t cause this miscarriage. Shit happens sometimes and right now is one of those times.

I’m ok with this and so is the hubs. We are disappointed, but we never expected to bring a baby home. It would have been nice and we definitely dreamed about it. During our anniversary dinner, we talked nursery colors and themes, boy and girl names (we have had another girl names picked out since Miss K was about a month old…haha!), the hope that we could go back to the perinatologist that took care of me during Tyler and K’s pregnancies, how excited I was to wear dresses with a big baby bump this summer… When we got Tyler’s diagnosis, I felt so stupid and embarrassed for having had those hopes and dreams and didn’t let myself have them with K. This time, I’m glad. Having hopes and dreams for an unborn child that is loved and very much wanted, is my little bit of real normal. I haven’t gotten much real normal since Tyler’s diagnosis. I have a lot of new normal, which is overshadowed by grief, but these hopes and dreams were only laced with grief. As we said “when” while planning baby things, we really meant “if” but didn’t feel the need to say it. I’m glad we did that. Being pregnant and having a baby is exciting and I didn’t feel the need to punish myself by ignoring that.

Now, all of these feelings may change and I may be a sobbing mess in a week or two. But right now, I feel pretty damn good about life, given the circumstances. And with the more people I tell, the more I notice that they really expect a different reaction from me and I guess I expected a different one from myself, too. I’m NOT sad and I won’t feel guilty if I don’t ever end up feeling that way. I don’t like to compare loss. Many women have told me that a miscarriage is not near as painful or devastating as losing at full term (or close to). I think that losses are all different and they don’t fit into a typical mold. I know that some people deal with their full term loss differently than I do and that’s ok. I know a lot of people who are nearly as traumatized by their miscarriage as I was by losing Tyler…that’s ok, too. For me, this feels like a stubbed toe or a speed bump. Not because I’m comparing this loss with Tyler, but because losing Tyler has given me a different perspective. I know a different kind of loss and this one is just different. I don’t feel like I lost a baby or a child, I feel like I lost a pregnancy. I lost the hope of a baby. I never saw a heartbeat, I never felt those tiny, little, bubbly first kicks, I never felt those relentless hiccups…I just lost the idea that I might have that soon. I hope that those of you who were more effected by your miscarriages don’t judge me for my reaction just as I don’t judge you for yours. For anyone reading, if you one day experience one, know that there is a whole community out there who have had a million different reactions and there is bound to be someone you can relate to and share your hurt, disappointment, anger or whatever feelings you may encounter. I’m not downplaying a miscarriage because it sucks, damnit, but this is just my experience thus far.

P.S. You know you giggled when you read my title.

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