A part of who I am now

As much as I'm trying to move on, to avoid this blog, to avoid thinking about what happened a year ago... I just can't.

I can't forget it, I can't ignore it.

It's a part of who I am now.

And as much as I want that to change... or vanish... or at least subside even a little, I've pretty much come to terms that it never will.

Because it's a part of who I am now.

I'm talking about the miscarriage I suffered one year ago. I'm talking about the best AND worst month of my life - July 2008.



I've had some really good moments this month in this year - most things I haven't touched on yet here at this blog. I've been wanting to share some thoughts here, but I just couldn't. Not yet. Not now. Not until July 30th comes and goes, at least.

Argh.

It's just an odd month for me... and an even harder week.

This was the month when I got pregnant, this was the month my life was taking a change, this was the month when all my hopes and dreams got crushed, too. All in one month in one year of my life.

Like I said, an odd month.

It's just hard not to reflect this time around. Maybe next year will be easier - and hopefully years to follow, too.

But I don't think I can ever forget this month in 2008.

It's just a part of who I am now.

I had a significant temperature drop read on the ole basal thermometer this morning. I guess AF will be arriving at any moment. I guess that explains the horrid irritability lately. And the cramps and sore boobs and ridiculous gorging. I mean, why would any of those symptoms be equal to being pregnant? It's me, after all.

Another cycle down the drain.

I guess I'll be calling the doctor in the next day or two and asking for an appointment to discuss our next step. I cannot continue on like this until a year past the m/c date (end of July). I just can't keep playing the mind/heart/body games.

S said he'll go with me to the appointment.

I'm not going to lie and pretend like this all makes me happy. Obviously it doesn't. I mean, sure a part of me just wants to know something, just wants to have some sort of reason for the madness... but a bigger part of me is terrified to hear that it's the worst case scenario, that the one brief pregnancy I experienced was a fluke and it will never happen again.

Because then what? After this appointment, after the blood and semen and whatnot is tested, then what?

This just was not supposed to happen like this. I mean, I don't really know why I'm so fucking surprised that, once again, nothing in my life comes easy... yet I am. I know that should that day come when I get to be called Momma... this will ALL be worth it. I know that.

But what if that day never happens?

I do still have hope, I really really do... I just... UGH!!!!!

The next step

I've had several ... breakdowns lately. For the most part, I'm dealing but every so often, I just kind of lose it.

S and I have talked and we've come to a decision: If this cycle doesn't leave me with a BFP, I'm calling the doctor and scheduling an appointment for the "next step" in all of this.

Sigh.

I'm just too old and too tired to continue on with this month to month bullshit of trying to get pregnant when everyone else around me gets pregnant and pops out babies at the drop of a hat.

I hate who I've become since the miscarriage. I really and truly hate it. I'm too bitter, too sad, too angry. And it's not fair to anyone, especially myself. I deserve more than this. My husband deserves more than this. My family and friends do, too.

More control?

After 10 months of grieving, I finally feel like I have control of my emotions again. And truthfully, that kind of scares me because now I'm wondering if a part of me hasn't just "accepted" that I just may never get pregnant again... that I just may never become the mom I dream of becoming.

I get sad when I think of that - never becoming a mom. I do. In fact, I sit here and type this with tears in my eyes and a heavy feeling inside. Yet, I'm also "OK" with this and it's mainly because I just don't have a choice to not be OK with it.

I'm going to be 37 this year. Yes, I know it's just a number. Yes, I know there are many women who have children well into their 40s. But I'm also obese and have high blood pressure.

And I quit coloring my hair again. ;)

Seriously, time really is not on my side and I fully understand and accept it because I just don't have another option when it comes to my age and having babies.

Sigh.

While the OPK's didn't detect ovulation last cycle, the thermometer did. So that is a huge relief to me because at least I *am* still ovulating - something I wasn't very sure I was doing since the surgery. I think the plan for this cycle is to temp and FWAP and pray... Pray, pray, pray that this will be our cycle and that we can welcome a baby in the new year.

If I detect ovulation this cycle and if I don't manage to get k/u, I think I'm going back to the doctor. I just cannot continue going on like this until end of July - one year since the surgery. Because even if I do go back and they start testing everything, who knows how long we have to wait after that for some answers.

Blech.

S is totally on my side with this - as he should be. I think he's getting a little "tired" of the wait, too. He's getting more and more questions from his mom, from friends about when we're having kids and I think it's finally starting to wear on him, too.

A part of me wants to shout it out that YES! We ARE trying, we WERE pregnant but lost it, we WANT to become parents... but... ugh. I don't want the pity, I don't want more questions.

I just want to be a mom.

So am I normal or what?

Yeah so here's a new article on the Mysteries of Miscarriage: Article.

According to this article, the reason I 'most likely' may have miscarried was because I'm A) fat and B) of advanced maternal age. Because I certainly avoided everything else in that article and have been taking prenatals for almost two years now! But then again, the end of the article also claims that I'm 'normal'.

So which is it? Hmph!




Still no smiley on the OPK. Apparently the Mr. is wanting a baby more these days. Or something. Not only did he buy the OPK's this time, but he also made the comment that the best way to 'do this' might be to have The Sex every other day.

It's only been 13 months. I swear he's not mentally challenged normally.

About yesterday

Yesterday was a rough day for me. I kind of figured it would be a little rough at times, but it just sucks nonetheless. It was my great-niece's 2nd birthday, and my niece (mom of great-niece) and her mom and step-dad threw a big party for the little Princess Rugrat. :)


At first, I was just really enjoying seeing my little Great-niece and marveling over how much she has learned and how much she absorbs throughout the day. She's an angel, that one, and my niece has no clue how lucky she is.

I remember when my niece was her daughter's age and she was nothing like her in that this little girl is such an incredibly well behaved child. She says Thank You without being coached, she does what is asked of her without throwing a tantrum, and she's just a joy to be around. Not that my niece wasn't a joy to be around... she just wasn't as well-behaved as this one.


I found myself getting a bit choked up at times when I watched her be 2, but the hard part came with the questions/comments: It's your turn now... When are you two having one?... Did you hear that (my SIL) is pregnant?

I realized I spent a lot of time yesterday avoiding eye contact with both the adults and the children. How sad is that?!? I couldn't look into the eyes of the kids because they seriously would melt my heart. I would instantly ache inside and my eyes would instantly well up... so I just wouldn't look into their eyes... the eyes of the most pure innocence there is. And I found I couldn't look into the eyes of the adults because they would start talking about their kids, about being parents, or asking questions about when we would have children.

:(

And now as I type this I realize that aside from my niece's one girlfriend who is 19, my husband and I were the ONLY adults at the party that didn't have children.

Granted that's not a reason to have children - to fit in, but my god is it hard to be submerged in a party atmosphere where you - someone who wants to be a Mom more than anything - are the only non-mother in the room.

Whatever.

I can hear the Charlie Brown (Wah, wah wah wah, wah wah, wah Wah!) comments now: It'll happen... You'll be the best mom and it'll be worth the wait... Your time is coming, you'll see... Don't worry so much... You were already pregnant once so you know you'll get pregnant again.

I get it, I do. And I believe it will happen, too. It's just so fucking hard sometimes.


I got stuck sitting next to one of my aunts yesterday and she not only asked when we would be having kids, but proceeded to tell me that it would happen when I least expected it and that she wasn't even trying to have kids and she had two of them and that her daughter-in-law just suffered another miscarriage and as it turns out she had a natural miscarriage and then two weeks later had to have her other fallopian tube removed because lo and behold she was actually pregnant with twins but they didn't know (!!) and they luckily have two of her eggs frozen from when they first tried IVF and thank god they at least have their one-year old Addi in the meantime. Yes, I believe she told me all of that in one breath.

And while I simply cannot imagine what my cousin in law is going through with her surgeries and whatnot, they are at least blessed with one child already.

I don't have any children.

I am not a mom.

I am not going to be a mom anytime soon.

It's something I have to realize every fucking day of my life. And it's something I have to somehow live with and accept because who knows what tomorrow may bring? So while it may seem like I'm unable to move on, there's a reason for that: I'm still not a parent.


I tried talking to my husband again regarding all of this and regarding when we might look into other options. Personally, I don't really want to look into IVF; I'd rather just looking into adoption. But he refuses to talk to me about it. He shuts down. He tells me that it hasn't been that long and asks why we can't keep trying the old fashioned way. And I tell him that that is fine, that I want to keep trying but that I just want to know of a time when we can start looking into other options... Like we go one more year and if no pregnancy by November 09, we look into IVF or adoption.

And he won't respond.

I finally had to tell him last night that while he's turning 33, I'm 36 already and while that's only 3.5 years difference between us, it's a huge difference when it comes to parenting, in my opinion. If I was 33, I would probably say let's keep trying until 35. But I have NO DESIRE to keep trying until I'm 38! I do NOT want to be giving birth at 40. Why can't he respect that?!?!

And, more importantly, why can't he at least give me SOMETHING? At least tell me if you would want to look into IVF, Adoption, or Nothing. Give me something to look forward to because this taking things day by day is fucking killing me!

Blech.

Yeah, yesterday wasn't the best day for me, but I've certainly had worse. I just have to remember that I am blessed in so many other ways because I truly truly am. Life really is pretty damn good most days.

Ghost Whisperer, Loss, Empathy

I was watching Ghost Whisperer Friday night. It was a new one. The main character, Melinda (Jennifer Love Hewitt) is trying to get pregnant ... in addition to her ghostly duties, of course. The show is making it seem as if she and her husband have been TTC for a good five months or so and the episode before Friday's left the viewer wondering if the tired, dizzy, and nauseous Melinda was indeed knocked up.

Friday's episode opened with her in a doctor's office gown sitting on a doctor's table with her husband dressed in his paramedic's uniform standing behind her. The doctor comes in and tells her that she is not pregnant and she and her husband Jim agree. "We figured that out after the 10 negative pregnancy tests," Melinda whimpers.

She tries not to get too emotional, Jim tries to comfort his wife.

The doctor tells them that they should worry less because they indeed were pregnant, but it didn't stick, and that he was going to run some tests and they would figure out what happened and what they can do in the future to assure she gets pregnant and stays pregnant.

I wasn't happy with this because why would she get 10 negative HPT's? Wouldn't her beta's or whatnot have registered on the HPT's even if she had recently m/c'd too? And wow, her doctor rocks to be running tests and shit with her first and only m/c, after only trying for five months to get pregnant. All while people like me - in the real world - have to endure two or more m/c's before a doctor will look further into things. But it's a television show and at least they're trying to approach the subject.

The remainder of the show carried on, with a few moments throughout where Melinda was touched by the love two mother's were showing. Then the closing of the show: Melinda comes home and tearfully tells Jim that she saw these mother's love their child so incredibly much even though they knew that the child they were loving and raising wasn't biologically theirs. She then asks Jim if he would consider Adoption should they not be able to conceive and he says that he of course would consider it but that he ran into the doctor. And poof, the doctor prescribed some hormone drug that Melinda will take and will allow the baby to stick next time. They smile and tears are in their eyes and they hug and the show ends.

Because it's as simple as that. Ack!

I was happy to see a show touch on this subject. It's nice to see some reality out there. But hot damn, it sucks they have to make it seem like you just take a pill and everything is going to be OK.

Sure I'm a little sensitive about it all but with as common as miscarriages are these days, it would be nice if more women who endure them were able to believe and realize that they aren't some sort of freak show or something. And it might help with others who've never dealt with miscarriage or a loss to be more empathetic towards those of us who've gone through it. Because if there's one thing I've learned the past three months regarding pregnancy loss vs. people who haven't experienced it is that telling someone you are sorry and saying that you feel for them is not the same as being empathetic; saying it out loud doesn't matter when every other thing you do implies that saying it once is enough for someone who's had a loss to move on.

I can understand that some people who haven't endured a loss (at any stage) might view an early loss as something that isn't as ... painful (or whatever)... than that of an actual baby loss. I can understand that. I mean I certainly cannot - for one minute - completely fathom what it's like to give birth to a child, to be able to hold a child, look at him, touch him... and then lose him. I cannot fathom. I cannot pretend to fathom. And my heart aches just thinking about it; however, that doesn't mean that those of us who've suffered a loss at a much earlier stage don't endure pain, too.

And that's what I think some people think about... I think they think that since the baby wasn't fully formed and/or born, it must be easier for us to heal.

Well, it's not.

We all deal with pain and loss differently. I think most of us as human beings can appreciate that.



I don't know what my point is exactly. :(

I guess in my disappointment with some people who I'm extremely close with and who knew of my loss, I was hoping for a little more empathy than one, "I'm so sorry." Yeah, I'm sure you were sorry but just because you never mention it again doesn't mean I'm suddenly OK with everything. How hard is it - despite what's going on in your own life - to ask every so often how someone is when you know they've gone through something rough?

I know it's not a comfortable subject. I get that you don't want someone to hurt even more by bringing something up that was painful. But you don't have to. You don't have to even mention the loss; I promise! Just simply send an email asking how the person is doing, asking what they've been up to. And don't make it about you. Just one email, one phone call a week or a month - and make it about them. That's empathy... showing someone else that you care about them, that you're there to listen to them, that you want to help ease some pain without making it about you.

And that can really impact someones life.

-----------------------------------------

Please note that I'm not trying to be passive aggressive with this post. I'm in a much better place these days regarding my loss, regarding moving my life forward. I think it's because of this that I'm able to write more freely and openly regarding what it was like to endure a miscarriage - and go through it basically alone. I've always been a very private person, always lacking trust in others. So it's not uncommon for me to keep all of this to myself, to work through all of this on my own. That's a part of who I am and I do not blame any one person for this fact about myself. I do not ask for help, I try to do it on my own.

That said, I realize this post may reflect that not one person was there for me the past three months... and that is the farthest thing from the truth. While there were a couple key people in my life that have never really mentioned the loss since they found out, for the most part, everyone else who knew tried to reach out to me on more than one occasion. And it's because of those people that I was able to learn that it may be about time that I let some of my guard down... that it's OK to show some vulnerability at times.

Totally losing it - my mind, that is.

I might have to tell one of my oldest friends that I miscarried.

FUCK!

See this friend I talk of... we go way back. She befriended me in 8th grade in 1986. "B" was the only one to become my friend that year (it was a new school for me as my mother shockingly moved me yet again). She would call me her best friend after a couple months, but I never trusted anyone enough to call them my best friend. Pathetic, yes but I digress.

We remained close friends for almost 20 years - even through all of my moves and new schools. Then about 6 years ago, we lost touch. Just like that. Poof, no more contact. I tried emailing and calling a couple times but after absolutely no acknowledgement, I moved on.

Last year I found her sister on Myspace and through her, B and I eventually reconnected and I soon learned that she was moving to Europe with her boyfriend and shortly after she moved, I learned that she actually was married to her boyfriend. About a month after the move, we started emailing more regularily and a couple months after that, I learned that B was having a baby - due this October.

The news shocked me a little... not just because of my need to become a Mom, but more so than that, it was the story behind her pregnancy that shocked me the most: her husband never wanted to have children but wasn't always careful so oops she became pregnant.

She said some other things that really stung - basically making it seem like having babies and/or getting married is all a competition. For some, yes, that may be the case, but please do not lump me into that sum of ignorant people.

I moved on - as I often have done in the past.

B had her baby girl several weeks ago. They're both healthy and doing well. B and her husband and the baby will be moving back next month. And while a part of me is happy because we'll be able to spend time together in person again, a part of me is dreading this... especially after her latest comment of "You need to have a baby so we can have play dates."

Um... yeah.

On top of all that, one of our mutual friends, who was originally B's friend, is 12 weeks pregnant. So I can just imagine getting together with them - one with child and one with an out of womb baby, and me.

Sounds fun and delightful for a SANE person but as I discussed in my last post, I think I'm going insane or am already there.

UGH.

I don't know what my fucking point with all this is really.

Saturday

I was laying in bed earlier thinking how I was going to come in here and post about how crazy and different my mind works during different times of the month... how if I'm bleeding or about to bleed, I'm very emotional and a bit irrational and how when I'm just done bleeding I'm pretty fucking happy and content.

But instead of coming in here and writing that, I checked my email and found one sitting there from a friend of a friend whom I haven't heard from since I got my BFP. I didn't tell her I got my BFP so I didn't ever have to tell her about the D and C. So she didn't know anything... but her email to me told me something: she's pregnant. 12 weeks today.

And the news of her pregnancy and her exhaustion and her nausea stung me.

Goddamnit why can't I just be happy for people?!?!

And then instead of coming here and posting, I go to a message board I frequent and see a pic of a newborn baby that one of the girls just had and all these wonderful posts to her about being a mom and .... once again .... I just lost it and instead of out and out crying like the little whiny bitch that I am these days, I finally came here to write.

But then my husband heard me typing away and asked if there was something I wanted to talk about and I said NO. Because I really don't. I HATE feeling like this. I HATE feeling ... jealousy or whatever the fuck it is because someone else is having a good pregnancy or because someone else just became a mom.

Instead of taking believing me when I said NO, he came in here and saw that I was crying and hugged me and wouldn't let go. So I let it alllllllllll out to him. His shoulder caught all my tears and snot as I just let it all out. Every bit of it. And I cried and cried while he just continued to hug me.

I feel a little better now.

But is this what it's going to be like until I become a mom? Because if it is, I think I might totally lose my fucking mind first.

On being an Aunt

I've been one to always believe that things happen for a reason... but when it came to my pregnancy ending, believing in a reason was very difficult. For the most part, I keep trying to tell myself that it was because something bad would’ve happened had the pregnancy progressed and that my body and the Universe knew this so ended it before I could fall even more in love and before life could be breathed by the little one. But I hate that reason. I hate that reason because the fact of the matter is that this is just not fair.

I've waited so long to be a mom.


I've sat by and watched what to do and what not to do.


I've seen horrendous mistakes made by others and I've tried to learn from them.


I've seen the gift of a child given to people who simply should not be allowed to procreate.


I've acted like mom, only to be shunned with title of Aunt.




Understand something: I'm proud of my aunthood. I remember becoming an aunt for the first time 21 years ago and my life completely and utterly changing. All of a sudden I had a purpose in life - and that purpose was to do whatever I could to protect "my kids" from enduring pain that wasn't needed.


So I stuck to that vow - even living with one nephew for five years. And I'm proud of my aunthood, I really and truly am.


But is being an Aunt all that I was meant to be in this life? I love the job and I take pride in it, but will I not get my chance to be Mom, too?


I'm not giving up hope entirely on becoming a mom... but in the meantime, I'm needed as Aunt. It's time to put the cape on again.


And while I strap on that cape, I can't help but wonder if this need for my Aunt Powers is another 'reason' why I'm not in my 2nd trimester and preparing for motherhood? Can I not do both jobs at once?

Unexpected

It's funny how you can spend time thinking how you might react to something if it were to happen and then when it happens, you react in a completely different way - or in a way that surprises you.

When I POAS last Friday and clearly got only one line, I wasn't really upset or anything. I wasn't really... anything...if that makes sense. I just accepted it and moved on and had no real thoughts about it. It is what it is, after all.

Moments ago, however, I just went to the bathroom and when I wiped, I saw pink on the tissue. Apparently the gates are opening and AF is deciding to visit now - three days before my birthday. Why not, right?

Anyway, when I saw the pink and then looked at my panties and saw a blurry smudgy spot of red/brown, my heart practically sank and tears immediately formed in my eyes.

And as I type this, I'm finding it almost hard to breathe as the tears fall out of my eyes.

One after the other.

I wasn't expecting this reaction whatsoever.

I can't stop crying.

It's like it's really real now. Yesterday I was reminded of the D and C when I got the bill for it. Today I get my period.

It really did happen.

I was pregnant one day... not so long ago.

I was really going to become a mom finally.

For four weeks, it became more and more real that life was growing inside me and I was finally going to become the mom I've wanted to become for so, so long.

And then one day, the doctor told me there was no more hope for growth. The doctor told me he was 100% sure it was over.

Just like that.

After 7 months of trying to get pregnant... it was all over.

And the next day I had the surgery.

And now, 34 days later, I'm finally menstruating.

And the tears flood my eyes again.

:(

I just truly was not expecting this sort of reaction.

About yesterday

Apparently it's time to color my hair. I had three different people comment on the gray yesterday - not on how much hair I chopped off, but on the gray and how there was a lot of it. Gee, thanks for the breaking news, Einstein. Would it be OK of me to comment on all your wrinkles and that maybe you shouldn't have spent so much time in the sun or smoked a little less cigarettes cuz you look about 10 years older than you actually are? Oh that's right, I have common courtesy so I'll just *think* those thoughts while you actually verbalize yours. Thanks for playing.

Yesterday was the first of two 1-year-old birthday parties I had to attend. It was fun (aside from the gray hair comments) and the only time I got teary eyed was when they sat the birthday boy in his high chair, gave him his little cake, and all the guests (about 30 total) started singing happy birthday to him. He looked around at everyone looking at and singing to him and started to cry. The poor little guy! I seriously couldn't help but get welled up because both his mom's (he's the product of IVF to a lesbian couple) tried to get his attention on to them so he would stop crying, which he did.

He's a happy baby. Very content. Ready to walk any minute. And he's absolutely adored by his mom's and all their friends.

I held him only once (did I mention he's the product of a lesbian couple? yeah so that means he's got grandparents that didn't think they were going to get a grandchild, and a gazillion "aunts" that want to do nothing but shower him with their love) and played with him for only a couple minutes. It was when I was about to play Bocce Ball with my dad, husband, and one of the granddads.

Z (the baby) spotted the balls we were holding and tried to come toward us so I gently tossed one of the Bocce balls onto the grass for the little guy to come toward. He did so I knew he wanted to play with the ball, but also had the sense to realize that he wouldn't really be able to lift the Bocce ball so I found a rubber ball and started playing catch with him. He was so happy when he threw the ball toward me that he squealed and waved his little arms about.

Gah, I cannot wait! It's not about being pregnant for me, though that's obviously step 1; I just want a child to nurture, to care for, to adore, to love, to guide, to protect, to help grow, to help thrive, to help and watch learn...

There were a couple times when a couple family members I haven't seen for a while asked how we've been doing. Thank god nobody asked when we were going to have a baby, but I have a feeling that they think we don't want kids or something... after all, we were together for 7 years before we got married last year and I'm getting up there in age. But, then again, maybe they realize that those kind of questions can very well be hurtful... look how long they had to wait for a baby to get into their family since one of the mother's (the one that didn't birth Z) is a lesbian.

I don't know, but I was SO grateful that nobody asked us when we were going to have a baby. SO grateful. And can I just add that it was not at all easy to answer the question, "So what have you guys been up to lately?"

"Not too much," was my answer that left my lips when my head said, Oh just finally finding out that I'm pregnant, being elated about the pregnancy, falling madly in love with the growing baby for four weeks, only to find out there was no heart beat and making the hardest decision in my life to undergo surgery to suck the pregnancy out of my uterus in hopes of being able to move on and forward.

"Just work and stuff," I said.

Meh, it's all to be expected I guess... and I'm just grateful I didn't have any crying spells or anything and that I was able to enjoy yesterday for what it was - Z's first birthday. It's not *always* about me, after all.

That was yesterday and today's a different day:

This morning after I came back to bed for the umpteenth time after peeing, yet again, I told DH that a part of me thought I might be pregnant again because of all the peeing and because of the *extremely vivid* dreams I've been having every single night for the past two weeks - just like when I was pregnant last time.

"I'm trying not to get worked up about it though, in case I'm not and because I really don't think I am," I added. "Plus, if I really am, I don't think I could be as excited as I was last time."

Saying it out loud to someone else really made me sad for a moment - I don't think I could be as excited as I was last time. It shouldn't be like that. Every pregnancy is different and my chances of having a healthy pregnancy following a miscarriage are great... but it's how I feel. Today at least.

"You probably haven't even ovulated yet," he answered.

"Yeah," I said, trying to drift off into another dream.

My nephew

I heard from my nephew yesterday. It was the first time in about three weeks that I've heard from him. He called because he got my MySpace message to him asking how he was doing.

Last time we talked, he told me he got a job. This time he told me he quit because he couldn't work for people who didn't respect him.

Last time we talked, he told me he was involved in a 'fight club' of sorts - a group of his friends all got together in someones basement to fight one another. This time he told me that the reason he hasn't called Grandpa (my dad), is because he has two black eyes from two different regular fights, not pertaining to this 'fight club', and can't see him because of the black eyes.

Last time we talked, he was calling from his cell phone - a phone he was able to have using his mother's plan. This time he called me from a number I didn't recognize and told me he lost his cell phone and was using his mother's.

I love my nephew with all of my heart and soul but I've spent about 15 years of his 16 years mothering the boy and I simply cannot do it anymore. I've said that before and have always caved and gone back giving my all to him, but ever since I found out I was pregnant, something changed in me and I sincerely cannot mother this boy anymore. I will continue to be here for him - always - but I can no longer make sure he follows a good path and I can no longer try to push him down that good path.

He knows what I think. He knows what I believe. He knows what I expect from him. He knows what he should and shouldn't be doing.

It's up to him now.

I worry about him often and I do believe he can succeed at whatever he wants - and I tell him this often. But I also know that he's very destructive as that's what draws attention to him, which is something he craves.

My munchkin man booger butt (MMBB) is all grown up and while there are moments when I still see him as my little MMBB, there are even more moments when I see him as trash. It's sad, really. I used to be afraid that he was going to turn into a loser, but the more time passes, the more I realize he already is a loser. At 16.

I would be mortified at myself if I was his parent.

What saddens me the most about all of it is that he is a prime example of why some people should not have children... and none of it is really his fault! It infuriates me to think about it all! Yes he's made the choices that have turned him into who he is today, but he never had the support and love and nurturing and guidance from his parents to help him make better choices. It's like the kid had no chance. It's fucking disgusting when you really dissect it all.

Yet somehow I need to *believe* that the reason my pregnancy had to end was because it had to, because had the baby grown to full term, something would've gone wrong... as opposed to believing that maybe I really am not supposed to be a biological mother for some reason or another.

Blech. It's stupid to correlate the two. My time *will* come - and hopefully my nephew will still be around to partake in it all.

Letting it all out there

So here goes: I'm putting it all out there in the next 50 minutes I have before S comes home. I've been holding back for some time now because I know there are some dear, dear people who read this blog who I don't want to offend or upset in any way... but the fact of the matter is that this is my blog and it was created to help me heal.

And I still need to heal.

I'm very sad. It only seems to get worse than better. I swear to god that I was OK two weeks ago. I was OK with what happened... with what had to happen. But every day seems to get worse and worse and worse and I'm not sure how to handle it.

It's not like I can't get up in the morning and go to work. It's not like I can't laugh at things and be goofy... it's just there are moments. A lot of moments throughout the day when I feel... empty.

There it is - that fucking word I hate so much. That word I've fought so hard to never enter my vocabulary again. Empty.

I hate what that word means when it's used to describe the way someone feels. To me, there's nothing worse than feeling empty.

It's almost as bad as not feeling like there's any hope left.

But there is always hope.

Thankfully.

But yeah, the emptiness. I haven't felt the emptiness in a long, long time - at least 10 years or so and I've really worked hard to not go down that road again.

But lately, I've had moments of emptiness and it's been scary.

And the anger. By god the anger is gaining control of me... talk about scary! I try so hard each and every day to smile and to laugh - to find anything to smile and laugh at or about. I try and I usually succeed.

But then there are those fucking moments when the anger and/or the emptiness gets a hold of me and doesn't want to let go.

I almost feel like I'm suffocating at times...


Just before hopping on here to blog, I was talking to S on the phone - he's on his way home from work and I was calling to let him know I was home. I was looking for batteries for the cordless keyboard and asked if he knew where they were. He didn't. I told him that I *needed* to blog - and blogging is something we rarely discuss.

He said, "I wish you would talk to your husband instead of the computer."

And I did. I broke down. I started crying and I told him how I guess I wasn't over the miscarriage, that I wanted to be pregnant and excited and nervous; I told him that I was sad, incredibly sad and that I was angry; I told him that I needed the batteries so that I could blog, that I didn't want to talk to him about it because - in all honesty - I'm not sure what the fuck is wrong with me; I told him that I *guess* it's all because of the loss.

But I have no clue.

I just know that I can't stand to read about pregnancies... a lot of the pregnancies I'm reading about are my own friends' pregnancies. And I'm so incredibly happy for them... but I can't stand to fucking read about it anymore. I can't stand it. The baby names, the clothes not fitting, the baby showers, the backaches, the ultrasounds, the heartbeats. I can't do it anymore. I can't be excited for them anymore.

And I can't stand myself for not being able to be excited for them.

And then there's the pregnant ladies. I swear to fuck they are everywhere. And the kids. Babies and kids and baby bumps EVERYFUCKINGWHERE I turn.

I can't stand it anymore because I so pathetically and desperately want it to be my turn.

I so appreciate everyone telling me stories about people they know - or they themselves - who've gone through a miscarriage (or more) and have also had healthy pregnancies. I really and wholeheartedly appreciate this more than words can say because I know they don't want me to give up and they want me to know that there is still hope.

And I agree.

But I also know that time is not on my side.

While I'm not ancient, I'm not 25 anymore. I don't have time to have another two miscarriages before the doctors start looking more into what happened. I don't have time!! Yes, I probably will get pregnant and it will probably be healthy... BUT WHAT IF I DON'T OR WHAT IF THIS HAPPENS AGAIN?! Can you tell me that? What the fuck happens if I don't get knocked up for another year or two. I'm turning 36 in three weeks. I don't have any other children. This is it, people!! Don't you fucking understand that this is my ONLY opportunity?!?

Even the fucking doctor acts like it's not a big deal... and I get it. I do. Because, again, chances are pretty darn great that I *will* get pregnant again and it *will* be a healthy pregnancy and I *will* become a mom... but there is NO guarantee of that.

And by god, I'm sick of being positive about everything. I'm fucking SICK OF IT!


My head hurts. It fucking hurts because I'm crying like a little bitch and I can't fucking stand it.

And listen to my language ... or read it. How can a someone who wants to mother so fucking bad, write like this?

I'm pathetic.

And I'm tired.

And I need to take a shit.

God, maybe S was right... maybe I am just PMSing.

But I don't really cry like this when I'm PMSing.

That's why I think I'm not over it. Or something.

Gah, I need to end this for now... S just called so I have to go move the car anyway.

Closing a chapter

So my follow-up D and C appointment... UGH!

In all honesty, I've been doing OK in regards to the missed "abortion" and losing the baby - for the most part, at least. Sure I have my moments, but I've been able to get up in the morning and go to work and do my job and whatever else... Granted, I've noticed that I'm angrier than before - at any and every little thing - but I suppose that's all par for the course.

I didn't know quite what to expect from today's appointment, but I had hoped for a couple of things NOT to happen: I didn't want any more blood drawn, any more vaginal exams, any more ultra sounds, and I really didn't want to see any happy pregnant couples in the waiting room. I pretty much figured I was safe with everything but the vaginal exam and the happy couples.

After I signed in to the receptionist and took a seat, I could see that there was indeed a happy couple in the waiting room. Just me, them, the TV and the receptionist. Thank god for the TV! I tried so hard not too look at them because the fact of the matter is that there's NO REASON they shouldn't be happy! And there's no reason I need to be getting upset because of someone else's happiness!

But it was hard. They were happy. Really, really happy. She had an ultrasound picture in her hand, and a little bump already forming in her lap. He also had another ultrasound picture, and the biggest smile on his face. And that's what I saw from my peripheral vision as I tried to study the TV! Then I noticed some extra movement and as much as I tried to focus on the news from the TV, I couldn't help but notice what the movement was: the baby daddy was so happy he leaned over, rubbed his woman's belly and then kissed the belly.

It was one of the most sweetest things I've seen in a long time and while it brings a tear to my eye right now, when it happened it actually made me feel better instead of worse. They were happy. Really, really happy. And they were going to be having a baby!

Soon after the sweet moment, an obvious pregnant woman walked in. I say obvious because her bump was definitely a bump and not just a fat, beer belly. Plus she stood with her hand holding her back... and we all know the toll a women's back can take during pregnancy. :)

The nurse called to the obvious pregnant woman and took her back into the office.

The happy parents-to-be still sat gleaming with joy against the wall.

Another woman strolled in. This time, it wasn't obvious if she was with child or not. She said something to the receptionist and the receptionist said the same thing she said to me in return, "This is just a follow up from the surgery, right?"

My heart sank for her. She was there for the same reason I was.

Finally my name was called and I followed the nurse directly into one of the doctor's offices rather than stopping for my weight like my most recent appointments... back when I was pregnant. And rather than take my blood pressure, she opened a drawer and took out a paper cover up and told me the doctor needed me to get undressed from the waist down.

Fuck, I thought but instead said, "For real?"

She looked at me and said, "Yes." And I could see the empathy in her eyes. And I realized how incredibly difficult their jobs must be at times.

I took off my shoes and pants and fought back the tears all while saying "Fuck" quietly several times. I hoisted my fat ass onto the fucking table and waited.

The doctor came in and I was elated to see that it was my doctor again! He wasn't the cold and matter of fact doctor he was three weeks ago, he was back to the warm and open and informative doctor I chose to be "the one" to examine my Secret Garden all those years back.

He asked how I was doing and if there was any heavy bleeding or cramping.

"Not since the end of that weekend," I replied. "But I have had spotting almost every day."

He told me that was all to be expected but as long as it wasn't real heavy bleeding or cramping and as long as I wasn't screaming in pain during the exam - which he did while he told me this - then all was good.

He told me they send out the "pregnancy tissue" - for which he hesitated saying - to ensure that it comes back as "pregnancy tissue" and not say "intestine", or something. Mine came back "pregnancy tissue" so that was good (I was pregnant!) and made me chuckle because of his delivery of it.

And with that, he was done with the exam and said, "So I guess this means that - if you're ready - you can start trying again."

"I'm not sure if you given that any thought," he continued.

"We have," I said and before the words came out, the tears welled. "We decided," I continued, swallowing the tears, "to start again right away."

He seemed almost happy. And he went on to tell me about how it may take a little while still before the hormone levels go back down, before I ovulate, before things all get back to "normal" but that it shouldn't take more than six months.

He asked if I had questions and I asked that if, nope WHEN we get pregnant would the same things happen again or would they treat me differently. He told me that they really don't start looking more into the why's behind miscarriages until the third miscarriage, and that if they think something may not be going well with a pregnancy, they start taking the hormone levels (hCG).

"So you don't *always* start with the blood tests?" I asked.

"Not unless we can't clear up things on the ultrasound."

And that's when the past three weeks became as clear as a crystal fucking ball to me. The Doc was not his usual, warm and informative Doc that I always liked three weeks ago because he knew from that first appointment that things weren't well. He knew it but he wasn't sure so had to make sure. He couldn't come right out and say "this pregnancy isn't going to last" because he wasn't 100% sure that was the case - hence the blood tests and extra ultrasounds.

It also explained the demeanor of the PA as she, too, knew that we were holding on by a thread.

I mean, really, how fucking draining must it be to work in the area of pregnancies? Sure it's probably wonderful and almost euphoric when the pregnancy is wonderful and healthy... but what does it do to the nurses and doctors and staff when they have to witness an unhealthy pregnancy? When they have to be the bearer of some of the most horrific news imaginable?

"You're baby stopped growing."

"There is no heartbeat."

"The blood tests don't look good."

It wasn't that my doctor was bothered or annoyed by me or that the PA thought my feet smelled or something. It was that they were preparing for my emotion before I could prepare for it myself. They were preparing for my own hell. Just like they have with so many other women and parents many times before (and after) me.

"Just another ride on the roller coaster of life," Doc said to me before saying good-bye.

Indeed.

And I can almost see the top again.

Monday's Confession

Tomorrow is my follow-up doctor's visit with my doctor since the D&C. I've been really and truly "OK" lately. Sure, I cried during Tori and Dean the other night, but who wouldn't?! A new baby was brought into the world to a couple who seem like they're so in love with being parents. That warrants a couple tears in my opinion.

I have to honestly say, though... I really hope there's nobody in the waiting room when I get there. Nobody obviously pregnant at least. I cannot handle seeing couples sitting there beaming with joy as they study their ultrasound pictures again. As "OK" as I've been lately, I'm pretty confident that I will lose it if that were to happen.

That brings Monday's Confession to a close... besides the obvious of being ass fucking tired again.

Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow

Yesterday wasn't a great day for me. I was without internet access all weekend so I stupidly came to work yesterday and spent a lot of time online. Too much time. As a result, I got sad and mad and sadder and madder.

I also spotted all day yesterday - enough to have to wear a pad all fucking day. Gross. I hate pads, I hate spotting. Fortunately, I didn't have any cramping like I had over the weekend. So there's a plus.

Today the spotting has pretty much subsided. And still no cramps, thank god.

Today I need to stop reading certain things on the internet. I need to start focusing on my job and other things in my life than my loss.

I really need to get my mind back into a more positive state. I know it takes time.

Speaking of time... one month from tomorrow is my 36th birthday. I think that realization is playing negatively on me, in addition to the loss.

I'll be officially pushing 40. When the fuck did all that happen?

Apparently

...I'm not over the loss.

...I'm stll upset about this.

...It's OK to be upset because it hasn't even been a week.

...Life goes on everywhere around me.

...My anger really can be attributed to the loss.

...I'm also quite sad, too.

...I really want to be pregnant.

...I have no motherfucking desire to go through another six months of trying.

...My thirty-fucking-sixth birthday next month is playing negatively in my mind.

...This is going to take a lot longer to get over than I thought.

Fuck!

One more thing

I keep neglecting to talk about my anger:

I'm very angry these days. I find that my fuse is shorter than ever before.

And that saddens me.

I don't like feeling full of anger. It's not healthy.

I'm sure it's just a phase I need to go through... but it's tiring.

Being angry takes too much work.

I really need to let go of it.

A New Week

I'm still occasionally cramping and I still have "bits" coming out when I wipe. I haven't bled since the day of the surgery though. The cramping - when it happens - gets really bad though. I hate it because it's a reminder of what happened because it's a cramping that's more severe than period cramping.

The doctor told us to hold off on sex for a week following the surgery. Frankly I can't wait. We haven't had sex since we conceived (while we both enjoy each other's company, we just don't have that much sex - and the last thing I wanted when I was pregnant was for him to touch me) which was almost two months ago! Needless to say, I'm looking forward to the end of the week and am really hoping the cramping and the "bits" subside by then.

Whether or not we'll conceive right away is something we're not getting too worked up about. I'm done with the temping and tracking of cervical mucous. I'll just listen to my body like I did when we conceived and hope for the best. Everything happens for a reason so I have to believe I'll get pregnant again soon. And I have to believe baby will stick this time around.

I still miss my baby.

I see pregnant women around everywhere these days. And babies. Everywhere I turn.

I'm sure our day will come again.