Does this mean I will be a crazy mom too?

First, a disclaimer is in order: I am fully aware of the fact that my current efforts towards having the most ideal fertility situation possible are growing increasingly crazy and obsessive. But I mean, come on, what else can I do? When I think back to the last pregnancy, I know I probably didn't DO anything that caused the miscarriage, but there is also lots I didn't do to prevent it either. First of all, I didn't expect to even GET pregnant to begin with, since the entire year leading up to that was full of unsuccessful efforts. I wasn't preparing my body to house a baby the way I could have been, and now I'm doing my best to ensure that this is exactly what I AM doing. I think of it as preparing the best, most comfortable and healthy home possible for our future little one. Is it a little over the top? Yep, you could definitely say that. But it makes me feel so much more hopeful and positive about the future, because I feel I am doing something right NOW for what I hope beyond hope will happen in the near future. And I have to admit, it feels GOOD to be taking such good care of myself. It feels really nice. I may never go back. :) Here are some of the odd things I am filling my days with right now in an effort to be "as fertile as possible" (all I can do is laugh at myself, really):

1) Fertility Yoga- This involves a different series of poses to perform during each stage of your cycle. It's from a DVD I ordered off of Amazon and I actually really like it. It is incredibly relaxing and soothing, which is just what my weary soul needs.

2) Chinese herbs- I am taking a combination of herbs I received from my acupuncturist. Apparently what herbs I am taking will also change depending on what stage of my cycle I am in.

3) Acupuncture- I had my first session earlier this week, as I mentioned before. Like I said, she is going to focus on helping me regulate my cycles (which have been anywhere from 28-64 days apart since I first started my period way back in the day). I now know, after reading the book and speaking with the acupuncturist, that this in itself indicates a lack of balance in my body that can apparently be fixed by a combination of changes in my diet and lifestyle, regular acupuncture (which will be less regularly needed once my cycles balance out), and herbs. I will see her weekly until this happens, and after that we can spread it out more. It's expensive, but it's worth it to me. It's hard to imagine the luxury of a regular cycle as it's not one I've ever known, but I look forward to that.

4) Eating organic foods- I have tried this VERY half-heartedly in the past, and I always fail. It's so much easier to just go to Meijer and buy the cheapest foods available, especially when trying to stick to a budget. But I've read enough now to be convinced that the hormones, pesticides, chemicals, etc. in most of the foods we eat are not at all good for us, and that they can in fact throw our hormones off balance. This means that for the time being, I am only going to eat organic fruits and veggies and hormone-free, organic meats as well. I have explored all of the stores in the area and while the options aren't great, they are definitely sufficient. I'm really going to do this this time, at least until after I see a healthy baby in my arms. I do believe it's important. Food is medicine, according to TCM (Traditional Chinese Medicine), and I'm applying that theory to my life for now.

5) Going straight-edge- Ha, by this I mean I am not drinking any caffeine or alcohol. This really isn't a big deal, as I'd given up both during the pregnancy anyway. If it's good for your baby and your body during pregnancy, it makes sense that it's also a wise idea as you try to PREPARE your body for just that. TCM advocates steering clear of both types of substances, and I'm happy to do it. Still, I miss having a glass of red wine now and then. And tonight, as it's New Year's Eve, I will probably miss the glass of champagne. But, it's worth it. AND it's temporary. That helps.


6) Exercise- Or I should say, the lack there of. I have been a runner basically since junior high school, and I think it really is just a part of who I am. I LOVE it and never, ever dread doing it. It's a huge stress-reliever for me and has a way of making anything going on in my life feel more manageable. Well, I now realize that my running was not doing anything to help my fertility. I realize I was probably running too much, at least for a woman trying to conceive. It's hard for me to admit this, because like I said, this is a hobby that brings me so much pleasure; however, I am very willing to give it up for the time being, if it will help me prepare that better home in my womb. And to be truthful, I thought it would be harder to give up than it really has been. I didn't go into withdrawals, nor did I fall into a deep depression (or maybe I did, but it got mixed in with the miscarriage depression, which was far worse). Either way, I have taken a temporary but extended hiatus from the sport I love and I'm OK with it. I'm doing a combination of walking and yoga now instead, and that's enough for me to feel like I am still moving a bit. I'm also taking far more rest days than I ever did before. Did you ever hear that we really shouldn't exercise while menstruating? It's not good for our bodies (according to TCM anyway) and can actually throw things off balance. I'm not explaining this very well, but when I read it it really spoke to me as making a lot of sense. Our bodies are trying to clear out and start over at that time, and we should allow it to do just that without adding extra stress to it. Additionally, I'm going to go ahead and keep the extra weight I was blessed with (ha, at least it means I get some new pants) from the pregnancy, because I know having some extra fat is actually a GOOD thing when you're talking about fertility. I'm embracing this new softer, slower, relaxed me and I'm thanking God that I feel so good about myself in this new state.

Oh, there are plenty of other very weird things I am doing (Royal Jelly, anyone?), but this will probably suffice to convince you I have completely lost my mind in this quest to become a mother. Oh well. :) If it works and I end up with a healthy baby, I won't regret a moment of it. And if it doesn't work, well, at least I will be healthier for all the effort.

It's time for me to go enjoy some exciting, organic snacks and maybe some carrot juice to ring in the New Year. Cheers!

So long, 2010!

2010 has NOT been the best year of my life; in fact, in many ways it has probably been the worst. I've been spending lots of time lately thinking about the new year coming up, and how thankful I am for the chance at a fresh start. New Years has never been a holiday with a whole lot of significance for me, and honestly I've never put much thought into it one way or the other. Like everyone else, I've made resolutions in the past, only to break them in less than a month. I've always been awake at midnight for the countdown, the ball drop, the champagne toast, and of course the kiss. All of these things are fun enough, but the actual significance of letting go of the past and starting over with a new year has never resonated very deeply with me. That is, until this year. This year I find I am actually impatient for 2010 to draw to close, because I want to let go of all of the heartache, fear and anxiety that has overshadowed the last 365 days of my life. Sure, I have so much to be thankful for from the last year of my life too, and the beauty of those moments is not lost to me; but the truth is that, more often than not, the beauty has been very unfortunately overshadowed by the darker elements of the last year.

In 2011, I want the light to win. I want the darkness to become a distant memory that serves only to help us better appreciate the blessings that are to come. I pray every day that this will be a year to harvest, after the difficult and painful drought of 2010. I am ready for some good to come about.

When I think back over these last 12 months, two main events push and shove their way violently to the front of my mind, trampling the beauty that I know was there all along as well. The first event was my mom's close call with death last May, when we spent those horrible days and weeks wondering if we were truly going to lose her. What was supposed to be a relatively simple surgery to remove one of her kidneys in preparation for her future transplant, somehow instead resulted in an emergency surgery to stop the internal bleeding that nearly snatched my mother from our lives. That experience was by far the hardest thing I had ever been through, and it forced me to examine a lot of my beliefs in a whole new light. It also jarred me out of my relatively Pollyanna-esque worldview with the realization that we are actually in fact mortal. We aren't all going to be around forever, contrary to what we might like to think. Accidents happen everyday, and when a loved one is lost we don't always have fair warning to say our goodbyes. I grappled with the fact that I won't always have my mom and dad with me to help me out of life's quandaries, and to be honest, it's still not something I can even think about without crying. I don't want to imagine a world without them, and I'm certainly not ready for it yet. I think my mom realized that last spring, and I know I'm not the only one who was not ready to lose her. I believe she heard those messages loud and clear through the foggy days in ICU, because despite the odds, she did pull through. It was a very rocky road to recovery, but my mom is the strongest woman I have EVER met (I'm serious) and she pulled through clear to the other side. I have never been so thankful for anything in my entire life, and I have grown ever more aware of this thankfulness with each passing milestone she has been present for since then: Her birthday in August where we all were able to celebrate together in Pentwater, my brother's birthday in September, my mom and dad's anniversary in November, Thanksgiving and most recently, of course, Christmas. What a blessing to know we could very easily NOT had her with us for these events, but instead have her right there doing what she's always done: Working tirelessly to feed us copious amounts of food and doing her darnedest to ensure everyone else is happy and enjoying themselves.

Of course the one milestone I didn't mention above, but that I am still so thankful to have shared with her, was my first pregnancy. My prayer since high school has always been for both of my parents to live long enough to help raise my children. I started praying this because I did NOT have the luxury of personally knowing most of my own grandparents, since all but one had already passed on by the time I was around. I know this was hard on both of my parents, and I also knew that I didn't want the same thing to happen to me. I NEED my parents to be around to be a part of my kids' lives, and I mean it when I say I have prayed for just that since I was a teenager. And that is why I was so very excited to be able to share that first new life growing inside of me with my mom. I used to think that this baby was a blessing sent to our family as a message of hope. That my mom would get her transplant just in time to be healthy and strong enough to fully enjoy the boisterousness of a grandchild. I believed God was timing things out just perfectly for us, after all we had been through to get to this point. I'm sure I've already explained this. And I'm also sure I don't need to say that I no longer believe that was the case, obviously. And yet, I am still nonetheless so thankful that the joy and excitement of that first little life was something I got to share with both of my parents. And more selfishly, I am SO filled with gratitude that my mom was here to help me through the darkest heartache of the miscarriage. I don't think I could have made it through without her there for me. I know, at least, I wouldn't have wanted to try.

I am choosing to believe that in 2011 we will see better days. My mom is going to get her transplant and she is going to feel better, stronger and healthier than she has felt in years. And when the time comes, whether in 2011 or later, the same is going to happen for my brother. I believe this. I also am choosing to believe that my mom will hold her first grandbaby this year too. I believe it can happen, even if I falter most days between fearful doubt and peaceful hope. Actually, I'm going to go ahead and believe that both of my parents will be around to meet all of their grandchildren, but that even beyond that, they will still be around to see those same kids graduate from high school and maybe even one day get married. This I believe. Crazier things have happened.

Yep, 2010 was a shitty year. Sure, I can look at the highlights, like finishing my Master's degree in May (my mom ended up in the ICU that very week), going to Mexico for our 3rd anniversary (mom was back in the hospital with lung complications), finally getting to teach Spanish full-time (there's no bad-side to that, it's all just perfecto), Phil getting a promotion that means he no longer has to drive 50 minutes to work (again, nothing bad there), and so many other blessings for which I am grateful. But overall, this was a year I am happy to kick to the curb, and I am looking forward to much better things to come in 2011.

Oh, and I'll write about the acupuncture another day. It was an odd experience, but overall the entire concept of Traditional Chinese Medicine has me very excited and hopeful. She (the acupuncturist) feels she will be able to help regulate my cycles and help with any infertility issues, and from what I've read, I must admit I believe her. It's worth a shot, anyway!

Traditional Chinese Medicine

I am starting to feel schizophrenic with the way my mood fluctuates from day to day. Christmas eve was a hard day due to the bleeding, but things have once again been better since then. I realize when I write a post like that and then don't update for a few days, most of you probably think I am stuck in that same foul mood, which is not usually the case, thankfully.

Just to update, Phil and I came back to Lansing last night so I could have my labs drawn at Sparrow. My hcg levels had come down to 52.2, and while I was so hopeful they would be back to zero, I know it could have been worse (ie they could have still been much higher). I also had my follow-up appointment with the surgeon who did my D&C today, and she seemed to think all looked normal, including the hormone levels. According to her, the day of my surgery my hcg levels were still up around 77,000, so they really have come way down in the last 3 weeks (hence my lovely, hormonal mood swings, I'm sure). Still, they need to go back to below 5 for the whole thing to really be considered over, and even then it is usually another 4 weeks or so before you can get a normal period again. I will have more labs drawn in 2 weeks then to check to see if they have gone all the way down, and she did say that by then they should really be back to 0. That is what I'm praying for! She also said my uterus seems to be shrinking back down as it should be, and when she did the pelvic exam (is there anything worse for a woman to go through, seriously?) she said the cervix appeared to be closed back up as it should be. I'll spare the details of the rest of the exam, but the overall consensus seemed to be that all looked as it should be looking 3 weeks post-surgery. I will see her again in one month to look at if or not my cycles have started back up or not.

On a different note, I am now looking into Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM). This is based on a book I am reading that was recommended to me by a friend who went through the full gamut of infertility treatments. It has proven to be a very interesting read and I am learning so much about the differences and connections between Western and Eastern Medicine. I love the idea of treating the whole self and not just a symptom, and I LOVE how confident the author is that there is no such thing as infertility; rather, it is almost always an imbalance (or multiple imbalances) in the body that can be cured or at least helped with a combination of lifestyle changes (dietary, etc.), herbal supplements, and acupuncture or acupressure. I'll admit I was very skeptical about all of this before reading the book, but it all really makes so much sense to me, and I guess it's hard to question something that has worked for so many people since ancient times (since long before Western medicine even existed). I also like how the author is both a Western doctor and a practitioner of Eastern medicine, so she does not propose that one is right and one is wrong. She talks about using both in conjunction and how if one can't give you answers, often the other can.

Anyway, I am taking the "It can't hurt" attitude to this all and am giving it a shot. Tomorrow I have my first acupuncture appointment and I'm really excited. I've read that this can cure (or at least help) so many ailments, including irregular cycles (that's me) and infertility (also possibly me). This acupuncturist is also licensed in Chinese herbal supplements, so I will be talking to her about that as well. And finally, I will continue to practice yoga, including fertility yoga (Yes, there is such a thing. I have the DVD's to prove it!), because again, it can't hurt. I guess it all just feels like something I can do to possibly help a situation I am otherwise totally helpless in. And I feel hopeful.

I will also continue praying. I have decided, even when I get angry and upset at God, even when I question if he's really even there and if he hears me, I will believe. And I do. I know he hears me and I will keep laying my requests before him, all the while trusting that his plan for me will be what's best for me, even when it isn't what I want at that time. So for now, it will be lots of praying and some traditional Chinese medicine for this girl. I'll update as I learn more, but if you are at all interested in the book I'm basing this on, please just let me know!

Merry Christmas?

How quickly the tides can turn. Yesterday (and for many days before that) I really was feeling so much better overall, at least emotionally. I guess what I am learning with this whole miscarriage experience though, is to never get too comfortable with any one situation or feeling. Not while you're pregnant, and not once you've lost the baby either. Everything can change in an instant, and there is usually little to no warning. Today has not been a good day.

More clots from the moment I woke up this morning. Still, I didn't get TOO down about it. It's still not bright red, so I wasn't feeling overwhelmed or completely defeated. Then, on to dialysis with my mom, and even then I still felt ok overall. Not too down, not too overwhelmed, despite the constant brownish discharge EVERY time I go to the bathroom (tmi, I know). Then, click. It all changes. I go in the bathroom at the dialysis center and am once again faced with even MORE old blood, and for some reason, this one time it breaks me. I feel done. I feel pissed as hell. I feel defeated. Completely, 100%, no hope left defeated. I want to cry, but I can't. There are sick people all around me and here I am sad and worried about MYSELF. This only makes me feel worse about it all. I am angry at myself and I am angry at God. SO angry at God, in fact, that I begin to once again question if he's really even there, or if it's all just some stupid lie we tell ourselves because otherwise life would feel too hopeless and we would be overwhelmed by the random injustices of it all. I don't know. I pray to God constantly, I BEG him to hear me and to be near me and help me not feel so overwhelmed. I want to know he's there. I need to know he's there, really there, and that he hears me and cares. Maybe, as my mom says, his answer is just "no", and that's too upsetting to me so I just shut him out. Or maybe he's not really there at all and I'm just praying to the wind because otherwise it feels like there is no point. I have no idea. I WANT to believe in God, and I SO want to believe he hears me, cares and ultimately wants to work all of this for my good. I want that so badly. But on days like today, where I feel like zero of my prayers in the last year have been answered, it's a real struggle for me to believe that. I hate feeling this way, I really do. But what are we supposed to do when the things we spend our entire lives praying for don't happen, and in fact, rather than happen, they fall apart in the most painful ways possible? This is all because we live in a fallen world? What does that mean? That means I get to lose my baby and bleed ceaselessly while drug addicts and teenagers get to keep their babies, problem free? Why isn't the fallen world effecting them? It all just feels too random at times. I don't get it.

So there it is. Merry Christmas, right? This will not be the best Christmas in history for me, but I'm hoping one day I'll look back and laugh at my doubting, questioning, angry self with a clearer understanding of God's role in all this. I hope so.

I literally am back to feeling like I might break something very violently the next time I have to go to the bathroom and confront more of the endless blood flow caused by the death of our first child. I can't handle it anymore. I NEED it to stop and my prayers are not working. I'm at a loss.

I wish I could wish you all a Merry Christmas and mean it, but not today. Yesterday, yes and tomorrow hopefully, but not today.

Thanks for letting me rant... Here's to a brighter 2011.

Home for the Holidays

I made it home to Traverse City yesterday and, as always, it feels so good to be here. Traverse City is comfortable for me. It's still "home", even if I haven't technically lived here in 10 years. I still want to move back, and there is always that pull on my heartstrings when I'm back here. Will we ever actually do that? Not sure. It's nice to dream about it though!

I continue to feel better overall, although I also continue to have spotting, and this is the most frustrating part for me. I'm going on 2 and half weeks of this, which I wouldn't mind so much if I could be assured it was 100% normal and didn't indicate an underlying problem. Hopefully, it just means that for whatever reason my body is taking its sweet time in healing from the surgery. I'm holding on to that hope, and continuing to pray each day that it will be the LAST day of the bleeding/spotting. So far, that hasn't happened, but maybe tomorrow will be the day. A girl can hope, right? This has definitely turned into the hardest part of this (besides the no longer having a baby to meet in June part). So those of you out there who believe in prayer (or even if you don't), you might throw one up there that this bleeding would go ahead and cease. Like now. I need it to end! Thanks! :)

I am remarkably less weepy than I was a week ago. I really do feel like, oh, maybe 3 or 4 days ago, I woke up and suddenly didn't feel so BURIED in the grief. It felt like there was a distinct moment when I realized I was no longer totally consumed with myself and my sadness. It's still there and of course I'm still sad, but I also feel more like my old self and even find myself LAUGHING occasionally (if you lived with Phil, you'd find it's hard not to laugh too). If you had told me, during those first few darkest days, that in just a couple of weeks it wouldn't hurt quite so badly and that I might even notice the sun again, I would have probably (sworn at you and) not believed you for one second. But it's true. I can see the good in my life, the blessings, the HOPE for the future. Don't get me wrong, there are still moments where I feel bitter at what was lost and long for, literally YEARN for our baby to still be there, growing inside me. But that possibility is gone and I have accepted that. I'm looking to the future and trusting that 2011 is going to be a better year (it HAS to get better from here, right?) for our family. I believe it will be. I believe some good will come of this, even if I can't see or understand what that good is for a very long time. I will trust that someday I'll understand a little more clearly than I can right now.

I read this last night, and it somehow comforts me:


God has promised that all things work together for good to those who love and serve Him faithfully (Romans 8:28). It may be difficult for us to see and understand how this is accomplished at times, but God has promised it, and He will deliver. 

I'm holding on to that promise...

For now, there is a fire going to my left, with a sleeping dog resting at my feet. My mom is resting in her comfy, new chair as we watch television by the light of the Christmas tree. Tomorrow, my Philip, brother, sister-in-law and aunt will arrive and we'll all be together for the holiday weekend. It's cozy and warm and beautiful and I'm ok. We're all ok.


                                                           Merry almost-Christmas!

Thanks

Today I am feeling like I want to be thankful. I want to be in a good mood. I haven't cried once since waking up (and maybe didn't cry yesterday? Is that really possible?) and it feels good. I feel like a normal human and not just a walking zombie, trying to fit in amongst the living. I am not foolish enough to think the grief and pain are over and that I can now walk away unscathed and ready to move on with my life. Quite to the contrary, I know without a doubt that this is just an up to ride out in the ups and downs of grief and heartache; the pain WILL come back. But maybe, just maybe, each time it comes back it will come knocking a little more softly. Perhaps it won't keep running me over like a bowling ball destroying the pins in one fell swoop. Maybe. I'd like to hope so.

Yesterday we got new carpet put in our two downstairs rooms, which are currently an office and a guest room. When we made the plans to order the carpet back in November I was pregnant. At that time, our plan was to turn one room into the nursery and the other into our bedroom, since we weren't going to want to trek up and down the (very steep, perilous) stairs at all hours of the night once the baby was here. The wood floors were in bad shape and we wanted something nice and soft for little hands and knees to crawl around on. This idea was just one of the things that shows how much this sweet baby was already moving in as a permanent fixture in our lives. This being the case, one would expect yesterday's carpet installation to be have been a very depressing project for me, but for some reason it wasn't something that really bothered me. It's so hard to know what will and will not trigger the sadness, but thankfully the carpet had no such effect. I like it and it does make these two rooms (which will stay an office and a guest room for the time being) much cozier. And I guess maybe my hope that we might still one day use these rooms as we had intended when we ordered the carpet helps me not dwell on the sadness of it all.

Last night Phil and I went out for dinner to our favorite sushi place. I obviously hadn't eaten any real sushi since the start of the pregnancy and I missed it. As we walked into the restaurant, I briefly thought about how we had last gone there together the night we had the positive pregnancy test (I ordered NO raw fish that night, to be sure). We were so excited. This made me sad momentarily, but it didn't ruin my evening. We had a great dinner and as always I was just happy to be out with my husband. I think this is slowly but surely getting more bearable.

I am thankful for so many things. I am also sad and anxious about just as many things. Therefore, my emotions are an honest-to-God mess that I usually have no control over. I feel helpless. I feel hopeful. I feel anxious. I have moments of peace and calm. I feel lonely and then I feel loved and supported. I'm all over the map right now. Today, I want to be thankful. I have the most amazing husband who I know will love me no matter what (even through swearing fits and raging hormones). I have a loving family who truly hurts with me. I have dear friends who call just enough that I know they care and haven't forgotten me in my sadness. Then there is the absolute joy and hope of a possible kidney donor for my mother (looking good so far). Add to that a warm house, a sweet cat, a job I like, and a loving God who provides peace in the midst of chaos and hope in the midst of utter despair. I have much to be thankful for and that's what I want to focus on today. Tomorrow is a crap-shoot and I can't make any promises, but I'm at least trying here, right? At least for today.

Apology

Soooo, yesterday was a bad day. A very bad day. I am not going to write a lot right now (or maybe I will), but I do want to say I'm sorry for yesterday's blog. When I first wrote it, I hadn't intended it to be so R-rated. language-wise. Then, when I started writing, the words and the ANGER just rolled on out and I couldn't (and didn't want to) stop it. I thought I'd just write it out for the release, then go back and delete the swear words before posting; however, in the end I decided to just go ahead and share what I was really feeling. I do feel bad for the fact that I know my moods can effect those that love me (sorry mom), and that my mood was so LETHAL yesterday that those who read this and care probably couldn't help but feel a little worse after reading that. Either that, or maybe you just thought I was a raging lunatic who had gone of the deep end. Either way, your reaction yesterday probably wasn't good. Sorry.

I apologize for the language used, although in truth I'm not TOO sorry because it was real and it was honest in the moment, and all I want is to share how I feel (poor Phil). I am realizing that I really want to talk about these things, but the people who ask and really want to listen are unfortunately far too few. And maybe it's not even fair for me to want people to offer me this. I mean, who really wants to have a very dark and depressing conversation with a hurting girl full of impossible questions? As it would turn out, not very many people. And for those who DO ask and DO listen, thank you!

Today is better than yesterday, and I wanted to write this blog to assure those reading that I am no longer spouting expletives with every other sentence. My anger has subsided, for now. I feel less panicked and anxious and more able to live in today. Today I am thankful for many things, struggling with a few things, and ready to move on into the future where anything could happen.

P.S. A friend shared this video with me today and it made me smile. Cats are always guaranteed to brighten my mood. :)

Done with it (with many expletives to prove it). Sorry.

Today I am honestly back in a funk and it feels like I am back to the very beginning of this whole nightmare. It's a day where I feel 100% unmotivated to do anything and would rather just stare out the window. I am tired. I am feeling defeated. This last week I felt I was on an upswing, which started on Tuesday. Monday, when we had our snow day, I suddenly had a LOT of bleeding after having very little during the week before that. That was another hard day, because seeing the blood is just so damn discouraging. It says to me that my body is not yet done with the miscarriage and that, well, I'm just going to have to wait a while longer before even beginning to THINK about moving on. It's a visual reminder that I am bleeding because I lost my baby. Otherwise, there would be no blood, quite obviously.

Anyway, after a rough day on Monday, the bleeding slowed down more and more throughout the week. By Thursday and Friday, it had all but stopped and I honestly felt like I had started to breathe a little easier. I felt HOPE for the first time that this really would end at some point, and that my body might just go back to normal. That is all I want right now. I want the bleeding to stop so I can start to trust in my body again. Unfortunately, I'm having no such luck.

After the two blood-free days, I woke up this morning at 4:20 a.m. and knew right away I was bleeding again. I went to the bathroom and there it was. Lots of it. I am passing lots of blood and clots every time I go to the bathroom and it makes me want to fucking swear non-stop because I am so angry. Today is the first day I've felt it so strongly. I am angry and done and I am sick of waiting for God to fix this. I am sick of everything, beginning with the pregnancy, starting out so hard, then getting just better enough that we get our hopes up, only to THEN have it all fucking fall apart again. Why is this stupid, horrible roller coaster really necessary in all of this? Why didn't we have the fucking miscarriage at week 6 when we first thought we would? Why did we get the all-clear after that to make us think things were really going to be ok? Would it have been so hard to just have the baby die then, rather than making us wait 4 more weeks, with each day getting us more and more excited about the future? What is the point in that? Why make us wait through that?

And now, why does my bleeding stop for days at a time, only to come back twice as hard as it was before? What the hell is wrong with my fucking body? I really, truly feel right now like I hate this shit-hole of a form I have been given to live in. It seems completely incapable of doing what it is supposed to do, whether that is nurture a fetus or heal after a surgery. According to the Dr., I am just at the "longer end of normal healing". I guess that means it's still within normal range to be bleeding like this 2 weeks after surgery, but that I'm getting towards the longer end of normal. That's awesome. If, by three weeks, the bleeding has not stopped, then they'll possibly do an ultrasound to see if there is a problem. And the most likely problem would be that they did not remove all of the fetal tissue (what a great term for our baby) the first time, and would then need to repeat the procedure, thus putting right back at the start all over again.

And I am no longer able to say I'm not angry at God, because I am. None of this is necessary. Not one part of it. If he wanted to take our baby, fine, I accepted that. If I needed to bleed in order to heal from the D&C, ok. But why must we get jerked around like this... for so long. I feel like God is flat-out ignoring my prayers to him. Is it so hard to heal a fucking cervix after two weeks have already passed? Haven't I been through enough already? I already had to have my baby suctioned out of my body like a fucking abortion, and now I have to sit here and receive physical reminders of that for weeks without end? No, I don't think any of this is necessary and I don't know why I'm being pushed like this. I might not have the strongest faith, but I do believe He hears me and that he knows what is going on here. I'm sure he's even sad to watch me suffer. But then, why does he let things pan out the way they do? We give God praise when things go right b/c we view these things as blessings, and then we are also supposed to praise him in the struggles, right? If he makes the good things happen, how and why does he choose who gets to receive those blessings and when? How hard is it to just heal one single cervix so a girl can stop bleeding and move on with her life?

I am so sorry about the language in this blog, but it's the honest truth of how I feel today. I feel like I am being pushed to my limit and I am not myself (clearly). I hate everything right now. I hate the way my life is currently panning out and I am so pissed about it. I don't know what else to do besides write it out as honestly as I can. It helps. I'm sorry if anyone reading this (is anyone even reading this?) is upset by this entry. But I'm sure you can find it in your heart to forgive me. And maybe at some point I'll just delete this whole blog anyway. But for now, it's real and it's honest and it's the only thing I can do at this point to let out the pent-up tension and anger.

I'm still waiting for the brighter days ahead that everyone keeps promising me... Maybe if I can ever stop this bleeding I'll begin to hope in that idea again, but not for today.

Normalcy?

Today marks the 3rd day I have been back to teaching since the miscarriage, and I will say this: For a career I was never 100% sure was meant for me, there are times when it is just about the ONLY thing I feel comfortable doing. This has been the case since we lost the baby. When I am alone or at home, there are so many reminders of what is happening; conversely, when I am standing in front of 25 kids, teaching them how to conjugate verbs or how to play a new review game, I really can't focus on anything other than their faces (excited, bored, apathetic or otherwise). It's the nature of the job. You have to be "on" 100% of the time, or you will lose them. It's an exhausting endeavor, but it's that very facet of it that I am so thankful for right now. I looked out their faces today and thought, "These kids have NO idea what is going on in my life. To them, this is business as usual." And that didn't make me sad. Actually, I was grateful for the 70 minute chunks of time when I wasn't just the girl grieving over a lost child. They remind me that the future holds so much that we have no idea about. There is beauty in that, interwoven with the terror of the unknown, and their young faces remind me that there are so many things to look forward to, despite all we cannot control (which is most everything, it would seem).

So work is good and for right now I am glad to have the moments of "normalcy." There are even brief periods where I feel like this never even happened, which unfortunately never last long enough. Then I feel a twinge of pain in my abdomen, or I go to the bathroom only to encounter more blood yet again, and then the moment is instantly gone. BUT, for the moments where I forget, where I could still be the girl who believed "this type of thing" wouldn't ever happen to her, for those moments... I am so thankful. It's not reality, and it never lasts, but it's at least a taste of what life was like before. And I desperately miss what life was like before.

Actually, I say that, but it's not completely true. There are aspects of "before" that I miss, but I am quite sure that what I really am missing is the "during" experiences of being pregnant. There is nothing more amazing than realizing you and the person you love more than anyone on earth have come together to miraculously form this new, precious little life. That this little one is a combination of both of you, and that every single day it is growing at science-fiction like rates to become your future child... I am convinced there is no greater feeling on earth, unless of course you count the moment where you actually get to hold and MEET said baby during its first moments this side of the womb. I can only assume THAT will be the most incredible moment of all. So I say I miss what life was like before this whole ordeal, but I don't really. What I miss is the innocence of believing my pregnancy would be a perfect and safe one, complete with a happy, healthy infant at the end of the 9 month ride. I will never get that feeling back, but I pray to God I might still get the final product one day.

My sister-in-law, Kathy, sent me a book I am really eager to read. A friend of hers who has recently miscarried twins recommended this to her as a very real comfort during her pain. The book is called Silent Grief, and while I have thus far only read one chapter, I can already tell that it will be a book of great comfort to me. The words of someone who has survived this hell are a comfort to anyone going through it, and the truth behind what she writes has already moved me to tears multiple times. I should also say, to each of you who has shared with me what your miscarriages have been like for you, thank you, so much, from the bottom of my heart. To realize we are not alone in the loneliest place imaginable is such a very real blessing, and I love each of you so much. I can only hope that I will one day be a comfort to someone hurting like I am now. It is one of the only positives to be gained from this, so far as I can see. And that is not say that I am not appreciative of EVERY kind word, hug, email, etc., regardless of if you have been through a miscarriage or not. Each person who has acknowledged our loss has helped in the healing process, and I thank God for every person in my life who has been willing to cross into the horribly uncomfortable territory of pain and grief. It's no place to spend time alone, so thank you for visiting me here.

Where you are

Blogging is so very strange. Who am I writing for? Is it for myself? Yes. Do I hope others will read it? Maybe. Do I wish I was writing about something a little more cheerful? So very much. I am tired of feeling sad and emotional and am ready for things to be good again. I told Phil yesterday that I just wish we could go back to life before... before all of this, before I even wanted to get pregnant. Take me back to 3 years ago when we were just recently married and life just felt FUN and simple and easy. Sometimes I go even further back to when I was a child, and in those moments I miss the innocence of life when everything is safe and the future is nothing but bright and exciting. I do think about how one day I will look back on this last year of my life, and I hope at that point, whenever it might be, I will be able to say "Ah yes, so that's what God was doing. It all makes sense now." I hope I will be a stronger person for having survived this dark and painful year. I dream that on this hypothetical future day, we will be holding the small hand of our child (or dare I even say children?) with my mom and brother beside us, both of them healthier and stronger than ever with their transplanted kidneys I pray they will both receive.

I start to wallow in self-pity when I think back to all we have been dealt in the last year, and then I have to refocus and remember that we have been very blessed too. My mom almost died, true, and it shouldn't have even happened. But, she DIDN'T die and even though it has been a rough road to travel, she is here today and we are eagerly awaiting some good news about a possible kidney donor. And I believe she will get that. I also believe my brother will get one when his time comes and he needs it. There are amazing people in this world who want to make this possible for them, and the blessing and beauty of that fact is something I can't even attempt to put into words. But I am thankful.

I am thankful and hopeful for the future, as we have so many uncertainties yet to traverse. And yet, my focus always comes back to this: I miss our baby. Right now, today. I haven't really thought about the simplest yet most difficult part of this very much, because it is also the part that is so unbelievably painful. But last night, as I lay in bed unable to fall asleep, I finally talked to God about the baby. I have to believe these little ones, even though they never see this side of eternity, do go straight to heaven to live with their Father. There they are fully formed and perfect and healthy, and they will be there when we one day leave this earth to join them. We will meet this sweet baby then and there is some comfort in that. So I asked God to take our baby and hold it for us, to tell it how much we loved it (and always will) and how very much we miss it. I asked him to tell it also how sorry I am that my body could not bring it all the way to full-term, and that even though we only had 10 weeks together, I don't think I have ever loved something so much in all my life. I miss you every day, sweet one, and it hurts so badly. I wish we could have met you and shared this world with you, but I am trying to rest in the fact that where you are is so much more beautiful. I know you are happy there.

So I guess today that is where I am at with my grief. I miss this little life so much. I miss knowing it was there inside me, growing every day. I miss anticipating our future together as a family. I miss your dad laying his hand over you at night, before we went to sleep. I miss praying for you and your future. I miss having my whole entire day revolve around you. I miss being happy, which is what you made me.

As I mentioned earlier, I look forward to a time when this blog might not be so depressing, but for now I can't seem to change the tone. It will get better, I know. But for now, this is where I am unloading the sadness that I'm afraid might otherwise completely overtake me. There are brighter days ahead...

Clean and white

It has been almost one week since we found out we were losing our baby, and I can't decide if it feels like that time has passed quickly or slowly. Actually, I'm pretty sure it has been a long, slow week, so never mind. It's crazy to me that one week ago today we were doing our normal Sunday routine, and that through all of it I assumed our little one was growing away inside of me and that all was well. Well, actually, I had moments of worry when I realized how NOT pregnant I was feeling, but overall, I assumed I was still pregnant and that things were just fine. Last Sunday, we went to church and I found comfort in people asking about the pregnancy. We went grocery shopping, as we always do on Sundays, and I still found that only certain foods sounded good to me, so I stocked up on those and avoided most everything else. Throughout the pregnancy, my food aversions were so strong that my diet was basically the complete opposite of how I normally eat. For example, I usually have trouble digesting dairy and it has a very unpleasant effect on me. However, while pregnant I found I was craving all things dairy and gave in to those cravings. I ate a lot of macaroni and cheese and a LOT of Mexican food, so last Sunday we purchased both of these things in abundance. And it's so strange, but I do not want to eat either of them anymore. It's not that they don't sound good (although the ravenous craving is very obviously gone by this point), it's more that it makes me so sad to see those foods and remember what it felt like to really CRAVE them, knowing it was the baby that made the desire so strong. Now, I find I am avoiding the things, even if they are just foods, that I associate most strongly with the pregnancy. It's a small, seemingly insignificant thing, but it's also one more reminder of what's been lost.

Yesterday I felt a very strong sense of depression, not like anything I've ever felt in the past. I'd alternate between crying, sobbing, asking God to please HEAR me, and then staring blankly at the wall when the tears would stop. I've never had the urge to just LAY there and not do anything, but there honestly was nothing I could think of that would make me want to get up off the couch. I tried doing yoga, and that was good. I put in a DVD I used to do regularly, and found it was a huge challenge because I am so much more out of shape than I was pre-pregnancy. But I guess that gives me something to work towards. I tried going out, and drove to World Market because that is a store I normally love and it usually makes me happy. The store was mobbed with Christmas shoppers and I felt completely out of place there. I don't want to shop for Christmas and in fact don't want to shop at all. I didn't stay long. I felt like a zombie walking among the living, and instead of distracting me from the grief I'm trying to sort through, it only served to remind me that it was there, still very much causing me to feel out of touch with the real world for the time being.

Last night was the graduation party my dear friend Jen planned for me and for Erik, since we have both now finished the Spanish Masters program at CMU. I had very mixed feelings about going to this party, as I think I've already explained. I couldn't shake the depressing thought that we should have been announcing the pregnancy, and that I had so eagerly anticipated this night since the idea came about in October. I was worried I wouldn't make it through without losing it, but in the end it was fine. I only cried twice, and only once in public when my professor asked me how we were doing on our plan to start a family (the reason, she always knew, I was speeding through the program in the shortest amount of time possible). I know she regretted asking, and I was a little embarrassed that I cried, but oh well. Otherwise, I did enjoy seeing everyone and there were even moments that felt "normal", as though none of this was real and I had never even been pregnant to begin with. I'm glad I went and I'm thankful for those who came out to support us. And mostly, I am thankful for a friend who cared enough to plan the entire thing.

Mostly right now I am frustrated with my body: I want this bleeding/spotting to stop because I know my body cannot begin to regulate itself until it does. I'll go a day without anything, and think maybe it's done, and then suddenly there will be a lot there again. It's like a constant physical reminder of what's happened, and each time it makes me sad. I need that bleeding to stop. I need to go 20 days, at least, without ANY spotting before I can have my first period again, and that is what I'm praying for. Time feels so precious right now, as I feel that so much of it has already been lost through this whole ordeal. I can't wait 60 days for a period to come, as I've often had to do with my irregular cycles. I can't handle this in between time where I feel like I just hate this body of mine for malfunctioning and not being able to do what it was supposed to do. I need things to go back to "normal". So if you're reading this, even though I know talk of periods and bleeding and anything along those lines is "taboo" in our culture, if you could pray for the spotting to stop and for a real period to come as soon as possible, I would greatly appreciate it. I'm ready for at least the physical side of this miscarriage to be over, as I know the emotional side likely never will be.

For now, the snow outside is beautiful and somehow very comforting. It always makes me feel like the earth is being softly covered in a clean, fresh blanket, and honestly, that's just what I need right now. I wish I too could be covered like that, only instead of snow, I want it to be God's embrace, which I am trying desperately to feel, while most likely I am actually probably pushing him away with my anger/fear/doubts, etc... Maybe he can can just reach past those barriers anyway to pull me close to him. That would be nice.

Swearing and drinking

The title sounds positive, right? The way I look at it, it's all part of dealing with this absolute shit of a situation (sorry, but swearing WAS in the title). Basically, today was a learning experience for me. Let me explain.

Going back to school was fine. Working was actually good and felt the most "normal" of anything I've experienced in the last week. When I'm "on" and teaching, it's actually possible to forget how I'm feeling. The kids are great and they have no idea that I'm even hurting, so somehow it's easier to just pretend that I'm not while I'm with them. Still, even at school, I am reminded frequently of what was lost.  I find myself standing with my hand on my belly involuntarily, for example. Additionally, I was not prepared for the reaction I'd have to seeing my pregnant, 17 year old student today. I passed her in the hall, walking with her twin-filled belly down the hall with her young boyfriend's arm around her shoulder. It was a sweet enough scene, but that's not what I noticed. Actually, I felt my eyes well up and I honestly thought I might throw up. My reaction was that severe to seeing her.  Luckily, I was close to the bathroom and was able to slide in unnoticed, where I hid in a stall and silently hyperventilated and calmed myself down. That was the low point of the day.

There were also high points. Let me share one, which came in the form of a sweet student from my dear TIES class (our advisory period). These are the kids I'll have had together in homeroom for 3 years total, staying with them until they graduate. They call me "mom" because I clean up after them and care about them. They drive me nuts, but I honestly love them. And I love them for worrying about me not being at school this week. Many of them stopped in to see me today and were just happy I was back. They wanted to know what was wrong, and for those who asked, I told them. They reacted with more sympathy and concern than many adults would be able to muster, and I am so impressed by that. Here is the email I got from one of them:

Hey Mrs.Moore/ Mom,

Soooo, basicly I was going to email you yesterday but my computer crashed. Anyways... I know you didn't die cuase' well I saw you at school. But on wednessday when you weren't there It just made me think how crazy awesome of a teacher you are. Truely, we all think you're the greatest. It's hard to think of having anyone other than you as our T.I.E.S teacher because you're just so amazing. I think we give you a hard time because we know you can take it and you're just the coolest mom ever. I think you really care about us which is the boom dot com.

You're the best ever at everything,

Samantha 

So bless their hearts (and thank you God) for the encouragement I really needed today. I was feeling like honestly no one cared about me or this miscarriage at school, b/c very few people came to see me at all. That sounds whiny and very "woe is me", but it's true. Three of my friends/coworkers even acknowledged me being back (thank you SO much to all 3 of you), and I am surprised by how much this upset me. I understand it is scary to come talk to someone who is hurting, and it's impossible to know what to say, but wow... saying nothing hurts more than anything else. I felt like no one cared about the miscarriage and that consequently no one cares about me. It's all not true, I'm sure, but how do you interpret that? This is the hardest thing I have ever been through, and every ounce of support is appreciated. I am not judging though. It's a busy time of year, as my mom points out, and people are focused on the holidays, etc. Also, this whole topic is still taboo in our society and people want you to just get over it and move on. I've never understood that so clearly. And trust me, if I could do that so easily, I would.
I guess I was just surprised by how LONELY I felt at work today, but I'm sure that's more just my state of mind than anything else. Grief is a lonely place to inhabit, and I'll be happy to leave it,  if ever that becomes possible.

Today also brought some painful "moving on" firsts. I realize I can once again drink coffee, drink wine, eat certain foods that are off limits during pregnancy, and (as I just did tonight) get my hair colored if I so choose. However, instead of making things better, these reopened off-limits activities only prove to make me even sadder. I don't WANT to be able to do these things and was all too happy to give them up for 9 months. Still, color my hair I did. And here I am with my first glass of wine in months (hence the 2nd half of the title). Both have proved to be just fine, although I'd much prefer the alternative. The hair cut and color today DID leave to my other highlight (no pun intended, seriously) of the day: The girl who worked on my color just happened to ask if I had kids. Wow, great question for this week. I must give off that "want to be a mom" vibe. Anyway, I told her, with very little emotion, what had happened. Later, as another woman was cutting my hair, the colorist came back in and handed me a gift certificate. She said, "We wanted to do something for you, so we hope you'll take this free massage." They gave me a FREE, one-hour massage at the Aveda Salon in Okemos from their most advanced level of service. This is no inexpensive gift. I was blown away. It made me cry, this random and unexpected act of kindness from total strangers. There are really good people in this world and sometimes God brings them into our lives when we most need them. And I can say that I will, of course, keep going back to the Aveda Day Salon in Okemos from here on out. They are good people. Consider visiting them next time you need any personal care service.

Day 3

Today I decided to stay home for one more day, and I'm glad I did. I needed one last day to reflect and wallow, but I do think I'm actually ready to start moving forward now. There will still be tears, because let's face it folks, I was a crier to begin with and this situation does nothing to help that fact. I cried, or was on the verge of tears more times than I care to count today, and yet I still consider today to be a day of progress for many reasons:

1) I exercised. I have been feeling like a complete worthless blob since this happened, and as a person who is usually quite active, sitting around all day was only exacerbating the problem. Ever since I found out I was pregnant, I had already cut way back on the physical activity, since I feared it had something to do with my spotting early on (although it probably in reality did not). I have missed running, really RUNNING since I stopped a few months ago, but before it was always worth it: I knew I could return to it again once the baby was born, and I looked forward to that day eagerly. I didn't mind taking a 9 month hiatus if it meant my baby would be more protected. Now that this is no longer an issue, I am anxious to feel my feet hit the pavement again. It is a huge release for me and helps so much with my stress and anxiety. I love the sport. Would I rather have a baby? No doubt. I'd sit on my butt for the full 9 months on complete bedrest if that's what it took to hold my own child at the end, but considering that's no longer a possibility, I guess you could say I look forward to starting back up again. Which leads to today. I tried to run, and while my body might still be healing, as evidenced by the slight discomfort I felt and the light bleeding (which really has been there since the D&C anyway), it felt good to at least attempt it. I ended up walking more than running, but just to MOVE was a welcome relief. One step at a time.

2) I received two pieces of news from people very dear to me that forced me stop focusing 100% on myself, and this was a good thing. Both things required prayer and both had the effect of pulling me out of the self-pitying mire I had spent the last few days wallowing around in. It's amazing to me how God can send us these things when we are most self-absorbed, and how quickly they can turn it all around. It reminds me that life is bigger than just me and myself, right here, right now. Things are hard, really, really hard sometimes, but we're all in this life together, for the good and the bad. I am thankful for the piece of good news and I am very prayerfully believing the scary news will resolve itself and end well quickly.

3) I decided to go back to my Dr. and pick up the last ultrasound pictures from Monday. At that final ultrasound, which is where we determined the baby was no longer living, the tech did not offer to print me out the pictures, and I didn't ask. I didn't even think to. But by yesterday, I realized I kept going back to those last images of our baby, over and over again in my mind. So I called just to see if they could possibly still get those to me, and they said they could. I wavered back and forth on if I even wanted them. It seemed simultaneously morbid and necessary, and so ultimately I made the decision to just do it. I drove to the office today and picked up the envelope with the 3 little images, but I didn't open it until I was back to my car. I thought it would be awful and horribly painful, but mostly it was just comforting. There it was, our baby, tiny but tangible, and I was happy to have a chance to say goodbye in a less rushed, less shocked setting. It wasn't awful and I didn't lose control; I might still do that some day soon, but for today, I found comfort in those final, sweet images.

4) I dropped off all of the baby-related paraphernalia I had been hording from the public library, and I did this without crying. I don't need the reference books or the Prenatal yoga DVD's anymore, and it was worse having them sitting around the house. Now, at least, I won't have to look at them anymore.

5) I went to school after the day had ended and I started to get things back into some sort of order. When I first got to school, I had miscalculated and the day was not quite over. I did not want to see the kids yet, and so I hid in the mail room as the bell rang and they all filed out. I felt panicky and oddly anxious, with my heart racing, as I cowered there in the small room. I don't know what that was all about, but I'm glad I got it out of the way and I'm hoping it doesn't happen again when I go back for the full day tomorrow. I was then able to get my room back in order and to get things ready for tomorrow, which will make things much easier in the morning. Being there got my mind off of things, and that's a good thing. Working is a great distraction, so I do feel ready to go back tomorrow. Maybe I'll be moody and a bit unstable, but I'm pretty much like that a lot of the time anyway, so the kids might not even notice. They should be used to it by now.

All in all, I do feel today was a better day, and for the reasons outlined above, I feel confident that I will survive this nightmare of a reality just fine. I'm not naive enough to think my grieving is over, because I know myself better than that. It will sneak up on me when I least expect it (anytime I see a pregnant girl, for example), but I will get through it and time will help. My amazing husband will also help, as will my dear friends and family members who are doing what they can to make my life more manageable right now. To all of you, and I hope you know who you are, thank you.

Cold is the water...

It will steal your innocence, but it will not steal your substance... (Click here to hear this song)


Somehow, this second day has already started out being the hardest day yet. Yesterday I really do think I was numb to the reality of what was happening. I'm sure the meds and the anesthesia helped too. Today, on the other hand, I woke up ok, and while I didn't have as much trouble getting out of bed as yesterday, as soon as I came downstairs somethings seemed to trigger the opening of the floodgates. I feel such a sadness today and it's completely overtaking me. I can't stop crying. There are reminders of the pregnancy. Thursday, tomorrow, is the day we were taking the weekly belly pictures. I should probably go and erase those because now all they'll do is make me feel worse. There are baby-related books, journals, exercise DVD's, foods I was craving, gifts already given from my parents, and of course the mountain of maternity clothes we had already purchased in anticipation of my body changing, which it had already started to do. I had already gained weight and my pants had gotten just about too tight in the waist. That too is a reminder of what was lost. I wish my body could just magically go back to normal, but I'm sure I'll carry around this physical reminder for a while too. I'm not sure what to do with all of this "stuff." Throw it away? That was my initial desire, but that seems so depressing in and of itself. Perhaps I'll box it up and hide it somewhere.

Yesterday I felt eerily fine most of the day. It didn't feel right, but it did feel easier, and so I embraced it. I wish I could go back to that feeling. Today I feel more emotional pain; I feel the hurt of lost hopes and dreams, of a baby we had already started to imagine sitting in the backseat of our cars, toddling around our small house and sleeping in the soon-to-be nursery across the hall. It's accepting that that baby is gone, that it was removed from my body yesterday, that nothing remains now but ridiculous hormones that are wreaking havoc on my poor body. I realize this entire entry sounds completely melodramatic, but it's honestly how I feel.

I struggle with many parts of this. I really think I can accept that God knows what's best and that for whatever reason, this sweet baby was not meant to live in this world. But I don't understand then, why he chooses to let us even get pregnant with these babies. What is the point of that? And if miscarriage can happen at any point, why let it wait until nearly the end of the first trimester? Couldn't he have taken this child earlier on, at week 6, when we already thought we might lose it? I'll never understand that. Why were we given the 2nd chance, why were we told that it was time to stop worrying and to just enjoy the miracle of pregnancy, since everything looked 100% healthy and right after that initial scare? How does a fetus just one day stop breathing? Or, how does the placenta stop delivering the necessary blood flow? I mean, they can pinpoint the exact day when that happens (9 weeks and 1 day for us, the Saturday after Thanksgiving)? What happened? You of course can get no answers to these questions, which is unfortunate. Was it the flu shot they asked me to get a few days prior to that? Or was it nothing that I did, nothing that could have been prevented? Whatever it was, it robbed us of the most purest form of joy I had ever known. I think it's that joy I am grieving most today. Knowing you are growing a life inside of you, a life that is a combination of both yourself and your wonderful husband, is a feeling beyond compare to anything else I've ever experienced. I imagined so much for this baby... what its nose would look like, it's "Moore" feet with the distinctive big toes, its hair color, its likes and dislikes...

I guess it's just hard to accept that in one day's time, I have gone back to square one. I've gone from being a pregnant woman with the sweetest of secrets growing inside me, of which I was so close to making public (thank God I didn't), to just an empty woman with nothing there at all. I am not really struggling with being angry at God, as I think I mentioned before, but I do struggle with feelings of "it's not fair," or "why did you let us go so far, only to take it away"? I feel more hurt by God's decision than mad about it. I feel utterly confused by what happened, even though I do understand that miscarriage is so common and can happen to anyone. But when I looked at my family and all we have been through over the last year, I honestly thought, "Ok, here is God giving us hope. He would never give us this amazing miracle, only to take it away... not with everything else we have already been through." I honestly believed that, and maybe it was precisely that thinking, which I know is not right, that somehow allowed this to happen. We can't bargain with God. We can't say, "Well, you've already given us SO many struggles and challenges, so this time it has go smoothly, ok?" It doesn't work that way, and I know that. I was just being naive. Bad things happen all the time, and we rarely get a reason for them. It's just life.

So anyway, for today I try to rest and heal. It's hard for me to just sit here and do nothing. I'd almost rather be at school with all of the busy distractions to occupy my mind, but the incessant crying really wouldn't do at school today. Maybe tomorrow I'll feel stronger. But just sitting here feels so depressing. It's too much time to think and focus on what's happened. And what's happened is terrible and ugly and hurts so deeply that I'd give a lot to just go back to yesterday's numbness. I wish there was a way to do a D&C of the hormones and emotions that go along with the miscarriage, because that is the part I really want out of my body the most. I feel broken.

I keep thinking, over and over: "The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away." That's it. I don't know why and I don't know what I'm supposed to do with that. He has definitely given us so much, and I'm so thankful for that. But, he has also taken something away and it was something I wanted more than anything else in the world. I'm not mad at him for that. I know I keep repeating that and maybe it's just to convince myself it's true. But I'm not mad. Not today anyway. I'm hurt, I'm lost, I'm disappointed and I'm grieving. I'm scared. I'm shattered. I'm broken. I'm so many things, but thankfully, I'm not angry. But even if I was, I know God's big enough for that. He'll love me even when I turn my back on him. He'll call me back.

Saying goodbye too soon

Well, since I can't seem to make myself journal anymore, I thought maybe creating a blog might be a better option to help motivate me to write down my thoughts. I know I need to do this, as there is a lot going on in my life right now that taken at face value could cause me to buckle and collapse under the strain and difficulty of it all. As it is, things are very hard at the moment and I think I need to just sort through some of it.

Today I went in for a D&C surgery to remove the baby we had planned to meet in June. Phil and I disovered I was pregnant (miraculously) after a year of trying unsuccessfully, back in late October. It was a rollercoaster ride from day one, with my old OBGYN telling me they predicted I was going to miscarry at about 6 weeks, due to some spotting and the fact that they could not identify a fetal heartbeat at that point. Of course, it turned out that they were really predicting I was further along than I really was, so realistically we should NOT have been able to see the hearbeat yet anyway. Still, I went that entire week basically waiting for my body to miscarry and it was awful.

In the meantime, I continued to have my HCG levels drawn, and while they did not double as they generally say they should, they DID continue to rise. After about a week of that, my new office asked me to come in for another ultrasound to confirm if or not the pregnancy was viable. Well, lo and behold, that day Phil and I DID see a little heartbeat, and it was amazingly beautiful. What an unbelievable gift. We quickly changed our mindset from one of fear and worry to one of excitement and gratitude. I truly felt God was giving us a gift in that child, and I believed he was giving me a peace that meant to let go and just TRUST him, which I decided to go ahead and do. I let go. I replaced my fear and doubts with absolute awe in the idea that God was giving us this life to cherish, and that come June 30th, we were going to meet this beautiful baby in person. I praised God every day for this miracle of life. I still praise him for giving us those 10 weeks together, even though that is all the further we will ever go as mother and child now.

Meanwhile, from about 6 weeks to almost 9 weeks, I experienced rather severe nausea and near-violent food aversions; I took this as a great sign that things were progressing normally and was actually comforted by the discomfort, if you can imagine such a thing. I grew more confident by the day, as I remember reading that after the 10 week mark, one's chances of miscarrying dropped to a mere 1%. I thought we were nearly in the clear, but then, I soon learned I was sadly mistaken.

Yesterday, Monday, December 6th, I went in to the Dr. concerning two things: 1) the fact that they had asked me to start on progesterone the previous Friday, at over 10 weeks pregnant;, and 2) that my nausea had all but completely disappeared some three days or so before as well. Both things were making me very nervous and I figured if I pleaded my case enough, maybe, just MAYBE they would let me get another ultrasound so I could be completely reassured that all was well. And I truly believed that all was well, despite my concerns. We had even planned to make our pregnancy public this upcoming weekend, at my graduation party where many of our friends would be in attendance. Unfortunately, I was very wrong. The ultrasound showed NO heartbeat, and the technician told me it also showed that the baby was only measuring 9 weeks 1 day, not the 10 weeks 4 days we should have been seeing. I literally could not believe what she was saying. I remember thinking, "She's wrong, it will show up any second now." Only it didn't. It didn't show up. I just stared and stared at my still little baby on that monitor and eventually said goodbye. I knew it was the last time I'd be seeing it, and that was incredibly difficult. It looked SO much like a fully-formed little baby. That's the hardest part. It was no longer even reptilian; it was a sweet little body with a head and tiny limbs. It was the baby I planned to welcome into the world next summer.

At some point, I left the ultrasound room and went back to talk with the nurse. I decided to do the D&C today, the next day, because I could not handle sitting around and waiting for this baby to pass itself, especially considering how my body had thus far given me NO indication of a problem. I had no spotting, no bleeding, no cramping, nothing. This was not the typical miscarriage experience I had always expected to encounter in this situation. My body, instead, did not seem to recognize the loss, and had just continued on as if all was well. I could have gone 3 more weeks until my next scheduled appointment, had I not decided to come in for "reassurance".  Anyway,  I just couldn't handle waiting for my body, which I felt had already betrayed me, to start and finish this process on its own, and I also did not want to see the fetus should that happen. So instead, the D&C was today, and Phil and I were at at the hospital from 10 am until after 4 pm. The procedure went fine and we are now at home. I am having quite a bit of bleeding, but that is to be expected.

Mostly, I feel numb and like none of this is really happening. I prefer and welcome this numb sensation, b/c the alternative involves me crying uncontrollably and delving into incredibly dark thoughts from which I can't seem to find any easy way out. There are no answers to my questions, and there certainly is no salve that will make this deep wound heal more quickly. So I'll choose numb,  and I'll embrace it for as long as it lasts.

Still, when I am in this numb state, it feels like something is perhaps wrong with me. Why don't I feel more sadness? Why do I feel so hopeful that we will get pregnant again and that MAYBE that time things will go perfectly? Why do I feel that I never fully bonded with this baby, despite my feelings (that apparently I created in my mind and were NOT, in fact, direct messages from God) that everything was going to work out just fine? I do feel eager to try again. I do feel encouraged that I CAN get pregnant, b/c for that entire long year, I had convinced myself that it might never happen. I do so want to one day, hopefully in the not too far off future, gaze at the new eyes of our, beautiful, healthy, very own baby. I want to believe this will happen. I want to believe that if God can choose a 17 year old girl who never even WANTED a baby, to be a mother, well, then, he certainly must be able to choose someone like me, who wants nothing MORE than to raise a child for Him, to his glory, in His name. I have to believe this, because if I don't, it means my faith has vanished. And my faith, in all honesty, is not the strongest of faiths out there. I already struggle with doubts and questions. Then, in moments of total adversity, I find I can't let go of God, and so I think, he MUST be there. He must have me in his hands if even when things are at their worst, I can not turn my back on him. I choose to believe he has a plan for me, and that this plan will be good. It will be right and it will be in the right time. I choose to believe this, rather than just getting angry at God. It feels better anyway. Emmanuel, God is with us. He has our baby in his presence and I believe that someday we will get to meet him or her. It was not our time to raise this baby and so God has taken it away. I accept this and know that it was for the best. He can work all things for good.

So for today, I am ok. I am writing. I am releasing my thoughts to the cyberworld where maybe nobody will even read them, but that might be for the best. I am writing for therapy, to release the pain and the pent up hurt and confusion. Here are my thoughts God. Here are my desires and dreams. Here I am Lord. Pick me. Please, one day, pick me.

As always, here is the song that brings me so much comfort when times are hard:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w-F6DGGF4Qs