Social and Personal Expectations

So here I am… almost four months after my second miscarriage and eight months after my first miscarriage. It is amazing how time really puts a gap between such pain and loss and spreads it further and further from the dripping and aching heart that I once had. My heart still aches… don’t get me wrong. I still see strollers loud and clear. I see bouncing babies everywhere. I see big, round bellies staring me in the face. I still see it all.

The difference today is that I can cope. Only weeks ago, months perhaps I would fall silly to the ground with sadness or die a little bit daily from the sharp blade of pain and loss. I don’t feel that as sharp or as dramatically. My losses will never go away… they are there forever. The memories of being newly pregnant and so beautifully hopeful the first time will always be a wonderful and fond memory- now in the distance.

I am not thankful I had 2 miscarriages. I will always wonder what could have been. I will never know. BUT… what I do know is that I will never look at children the same. What a true and amazing miracle they are. What a blessing. I always “knew” that babies were miracles because it is what “everyone” else would say… but now I am old enough and a little wiser these days… I get it. Babies are total miracles. And not everyone gets to have one. And if people do get to have babies they are very blessed.

My anger is slowly trickling away. I think there will always be a space inside of me that harbors the resentment… the long lost look in my eyes when I see other women conceive and roll through their pregnancies with no bumps or curves. But I am not as angry. I am sort of moving on. I feel selfish in saying this but I am. I have taken on some new directions in my life in the last six weeks that have changed my landscape in what I believe to be a healthy way.

I am beginning a new job that could potentially be a very prestigious position and will give me some freedom. It will also provide the canvass I have so longed for in my professional life- a canvass in which to create, design, explore, investigate, research, execute and really use my mind. Marketing is a wonderfully complex and outrageous field. I so adore it. Bob and I have also put out town home on the market and are hoping for a quick sale. We found the home we have dreamed of. It is amazing. And with a new job and potentially a new home I think our baby plans will be taking a different place in our lives right now. And I am okay with that, surprisingly. I thought I wouldn’t be – but I am and oddly feel somewhat relieved.

For some time I have felt such a deep hole in my core being that I felt such an urgency to fill it up – with something- with anything!! Now, I just want to get on with my life. I want to notice the beauty in the world and really just enjoy the simplicity Bob and I have been so freely given. I am not backing away from Mommy hood… just taking a sabbatical for now. There is so much to do!

I have also joined the Board of Directors for a non-profit in Denver and that will fill my “do-gooder” square. I like that.

And not to mention reserving time for friends, fun and activity. Something in which Bob and I have been totally void of due to overwhelming sadness and grief for the better part of the last 8 months.

So this is good. Baby steps. No pun intended. But it is true. You don’t get over a miscarriage over night. Sometimes never. But from what I am learning you do change the course and adjust your sail.

Bob and I will get our chance- I just don’t think the time is now… and I am finally okay with this. I am looking forward to blossoming as a young professional woman and leveraging my career in as many ways as I can. And, I know it is okay to want and have both a professional life and a life as a mother. Soon, I hope to combine the two.

The only nagging feeling I have is that I am just getting older…31 and Bob 44. The only reason I feel a sense of urgency is that I want my kids to have young enough parents that we will actually remember their names! I want them to see us in our youth as much as they can. And, I want them to know their grandparents. But I am learning… a little late I might add, that you can’t have it all. And you can’t have it all, now.

What's My Temperature?

Every morning I wake with the sound of a frog. The frog ribbets his way into my dreams and stirs me awake. I hit snooze at least four times before I actually even open my eyes. I have a nature alarm clock. I can wake to birds but that is way too annoying. I can wake to a heartbeat but I know I wouldn’t even budge to the heartbeat, it is way to soft. I can choose a waterfall, the sound of waves crashing and the frog. I like the frog. It makes me smile.

Once the snooze button has been hit sufficiently four times I roll over and open my second dresser drawer that harbors my bras, the latest PEOPLE magazine, a book, whichever one I am reading at the time and a chart with temperatures and dates along with a thermometer. Without even opening my eyes I push the on button and stick the thermometer beneath my morning tongue and wait. Sometimes it takes forever, especially since you cannot even pee before you take your temp. Sometimes, I fall back to sleep and the beeping signal wakes me indicating that my temperature has been recorded in the window- another words…take the damn thing out of my mouth!

I record the temp on the chart and it tells me exactly what is going on with my hormones. During my period I just mark XXX’s in the boxes. But the day my period ends I begin taking my temp. On the days that I begin to ovulate my temp will raise and stay high. If I am pregnant my temp will stay high. If I am not pregnant my temp will immediately plummet. It is biologically and scientifically impressive. I can tell when I am pregnant before a pregnancy test now. Thank god I won’t be wasting money on any more of those for a while!

And I probably won’ t be seeing myself pregnant either. I need some time. I just know it. As much as I want a baby and really want to make a go of this parenting thing I know I need time. I am scarred and torn and really still very sad. I am a lot better than I was a few months ago but I am not whole yet and it wouldn’t be fair.

I have so many things going on that I think it is best to just be okay with now and be okay with the process of waiting for the right time. I have never been good at waiting for anything- but I have to now. I cannot just “want” something and then make this happen. It has to happen when the time is right.

Once again, I am beginning a new job and with that comes stress and a whole set of new ideas and expectations. And surely I cannot wind up pregnant in the first few months of a new job. See, I did that once… and I had a big target on my back the rest of the time I was employed with the organization. I was a ‘pregnancy risk’ and was never treated the same after I got pregnant and even after I lost my baby. I think they assumed I would just get knocked up again and they would have to deal. Well, lucky for them, I resigned. Assholes. But now I am moving into a position when I am going to have an enormous amount of responsibility and there are going to be greater expectations. I am happy about this. And I know that holding off for a while is appropriate. Not what I envisioned but okay.

Our lives just need a huge big breath of fresh air and maybe some laughter and some down time. Room to grow into our skin together, Bob and I. Time to heal. Space to manage the losses and the gains and just some freedom. People keep saying we will get our chance… and one way or another I am pretty sure we will.

So I will keep waking to the ribbett each morning and I will take my temp just so I know what my body is doing inside. I still have tests to take but I have decided to take a break on that as well; at least until the end of April. I just need a break. I cannot have any more people digging around inside of me for a while. No more stirrups… just for a while.

And I will keep hoping deep inside that when the time is right it will present itself.

To the anonymous poster who told me to “get over it” and that my “writing was very angry….” You are correct. I am angry. And this is where I resolve that. This is where I become whole. You landed on my page. Go home… let me and all of us be what we need to be. That is what this is about. It is called ‘healing.’ So please… don’t come back you are not welcome.

Be well everyone… talk soon.

The Source of Fear and Denial...A Readers Post

I recently got an email regarding my last post that I would like to share with all of you. I found this post to be really unnecessary.

If you are out there are you take the time to read my blog and have the balls to tell ME to "get over it" then you are the very source and cause of why PEOPLE DO NOT TALK about miscarriage or recognize it as a HUGE LOSS.

YOU are the very source of denial and fear. It is by writing through the pain that I cope- and that frame does not have a time period.

How dare you.

Don't tell me to GET OVER losing my babies- Ever.

This is the post:

**Oh and whoever you are ... Next time- have the balls to post with your name so we can see you.

"I have read several of your pages, and I am so sad for you ~ it is truly a frightening, sad and completely random experience that effects a woman who has had a miscarriage. I know your pain and am sorry you have had to go through such trauma ~ but you need to get over this. I know that is blunt and seems callous, but you do. Life is a gift, and when the time is right for you and your man to have another opportunity to love and cherish another life, you will be given that chance. In the meantime, you need to heal yourself of this hateful state you have placed yourself in. You sound angry and irrational in your writings ~ and although this is a part of the healing process, until you get past it, you will never be healthy enough to try again. All things happen for a reason. Some reasons are hard to see, but they will teach you if you push past this angered state and search for the answer. "

A Little History...

I found this piece and wanted to share. This was written after my first miscarriage in July 2004.


We lost our baby. Bob and I found out we were pregnant on June 5th, 2004 and lost the baby on July 15th, 2004. I had gotten so incredibly bonded with the baby growing inside of me. It is amazing how close you can become to something you haven’t even met or seen. I lay awake most nights thinking of the future of our child, what would we name the baby? What would the nursery look like? Would we be good parents? Would I be able to find a job before I started showing? So many thoughts and so much to read and learn. When we first found out we were both shocked and stunned. How did this happen we think? But then, the little angle just took hold of us and everything we did was about this new child we were going to bring into the world. On July 14th I started bleeding, and the on call Dr. said to come to the clinic in the morning for an Ultrasound. I knew it wasn’t good, because I was cramping and the bleeding was getting worse.

When we got to the clinic we had to wait for an hour or so. Then, some insensitive woman did an ultrasound, and took measurements of our baby. She told us that our baby’s heartbeat was not beating. Part of me died that morning for sure. I wailed in the Doctor’s office and Bob draped himself over me. We cried and cried. They moved us into a room so that we would not have to sit out in the waiting room with out tears. The Doctor seems so “routine” about it. We had just lost a child, and she was so blasé.

Our baby had died at about 8 weeks… right after they told us that there was a healthy heartbeat and that we had a 95% chance of bringing home a healthy baby. It had been gone inside of me for two weeks. It never miscarried itself. So, my options were to “wait” for my baby to come out of me in a painful miscarriage, or to get a D&C, which is a nice word for abortion…and a scraping of the uterus. I chose the D&C so that I could get the baby out and make sure that it wasn’t missed. I was scheduled to go to the hospital that afternoon. Bob and I went home and I started going into labor- it lasted 20 minutes of the worst contractions- and the only contractions I had ever felt. I knew the baby was trying to miscarry. Amy came over and held me. We got a hold of my Mom in Guatemala-, which wasn’t easy. I cried and cried and cried.

That afternoon, Amy, Bob and I went to the Hospital, and it took hours of waiting, but I had my D&C and was sent home. I think during the procedure, I was crying out for my baby. It has been under two weeks since we lost our baby. I haven’t stopped crying. Oh, sure, I stop for hours at a time, but each day, I cry. Bob has been angry more than anything… and I have just been so sad. So terribly sad. I can’t imagine that women go through this everyday, sometimes, more than once. Some women, several times. It is something I always knew was a possibility, but I tried my best to be as careful and loving and calm as I could. And it still doesn’t matter. Our first child has died.

I am not sure you ever recover fully from such a loss. Nor, can you compare it to the loss of a grown child. But it is a loss of huge and awful proportions. At night, when I wake, to get something to drink, it hurts. All the nights I laid awake planning for our baby, I was so excited, scared, happy, and nervous. Now, now that the baby is gone, I do feel such a sense of immense loneliness… like something has been robbed from my body and it has.

This changes a person, for sure. I won’t ever be the same. I don’t know about Bob. I think we will “bounce” back and get into our routine and the days will draw longer and separate us from this experience. Time will put distance between us and the baby that we lost. We will get on with out lives and days will pass, and maybe we will get another chance. But I don’t want to live my life obsessing about getting pregnant. Nothing will replace my first experience- and if I get the great honor again, it will be different. Equally wonderful, but different. I think I will have to try hard not to get so attached so early on. How one does this, I do not know? I just hope that we are able to have children and bring them into this world and hold their hands like we had planned.

This is such a tough time. I so want it to go away- but I know we must honor our baby and grieve. And we must count our blessings as well. It really made me realize what was important to me. Having a child is important. Having a loving family and caring friends is what matters. Without all of this, we are nothing.

I went on to miscarry another baby in November 2004.

Falling Off the Stirrups

This is funny now... but it wasn't yesterday.

Going in for an Endometrial Biop is supposed to be very painful.

So... on my way to the OB I popped a vicadon (pain killer) as they would not give me any anesthesia at the OB for this test (don't ask me why).

SO! I am feeling pretty damn good- as I don't drink, smoke, indulge in caffeine- I am straight as they come.

So, one vicoden made me feel pretty good. BUT ... I was very nervous about the test so of course when we got to the OB's office I popped another thinking "I better make sure I am appropriately drugged!"

The OB comes in and we discover that they cannot - YES- cannot do the test because of my 35 day cycle- I am too early. YOU WOULD THINK THEY WOULD KNOW THAT WHEN THEY SCHEDULED THE APPOINTMENT!!!
But no... They did not.

It was okay though as Bob and I had many questions:

1) How do we know when I am ovulating (you would think we would know this by now but have been nothing but confused by the entire subject with all the mis-information out there) We were given a tempeture chart so I could take my temp every morning before I pee. Scientifically and biologically, this is very cool. Wish I had known about this before- but then... you don't know what you don't know you are supposed to know, ya know?


2) What is e-tegrity- I heard it was for INFERTILITY not recurrent MISCARRIAGE? The e-tegrity test is used to determine how receptive the lining of the uterus is to the implantation of the fertilized egg. The test checks for the presence of the Beta-3 integrin, a glue like protein necessary for implantation to take place. If you are missing the Beta-3 integrin, the fertilized egg may not attach properly to the uterine wall. As a result, your chances of a successful pregnancy are decreased. www.adeza.com

This test is NOT, I repeat NOT covered by insurance... It will run around $500.

3) What is a Phantom Pregnancy? Phantom Pregnancy or A phantom, or false pregnancy, is a condition in which a non-pregnant woman exhibits all the classic symptoms of pregnancy and is firmly convinced that she is pregnant even when clear medical evidence shows that she is not. The medical term for this condition is pseudocyesis.

4) By the time we got to question 4 I rolled off of the table and started crawling to the bathroom down the hall. Halfway down the hall I almost passed out. I was sweating profusely and felt like I was going to die. I made it to the toilet on my knees with my husband trailing me and the OB asking me "what did you eat for lunch?" My head plopped on the toilet bowel and I puked.

Let's just say this was not one of my brighter moments.

So - I did not get the Endometrial Biop yesterday. Instead I accidentally overdosed on vicoden and ended up crawling down the hallway of my OB's office.

Thank god it was later in the day- we were the only three people there. I came home with a new thermometer though.

Endometrial Biopsy

Yeah!!!

I get to go in to my OBGYN in a few minutes for an Endometrial Biopsy...

My vagina is like a public science project.

Not cool.

I am now, after my horrifying experience with the HSG (battery acid shot into uterus) afraid of a speculum. Yep. I am done with the cold metal speculums that pry open my vagina on a regular basis in search of something. And how I love when the Doc's say "schoooch down."

Yeah... fuck... you schoooch down. I am done with stirrups and cotton swabs and needles and scales and pregnancy tests... SIGH...

So, I am going to take some vicadon for this journey... I am not a fan of popping pills- but when someone tells me it isn't going to be painful and it is the MOST painful thing I have ever experienced (HSG) and then they tell my that the Endometrial Biop will probably be painful... I'm gonna pop pills.

And that is that.

So... wish me luck.

I am not sure what this test will show. I am quite tired of the whole damn thing.

Popping pills now.

Phantom Pregnancy

In all my years of being a hypochondriac I have never heard of phantom pregnancy or as the medical community calls it pseudocyesis. I have taken 3 pregnancy tests because I feel so PREGNANT. And really, since the tests come up negative I have to attribute my new physical experience to pseudocyesis. Here is a brief description:

What is it?

A phantom, or false pregnancy, is a condition in which a non-pregnant woman exhibits all the classic symptoms of pregnancy and is firmly convinced that she is pregnant even when clear medical evidence shows that she is not. The medical term for this condition is pseudocyesis.
How is it diagnosed?

The first thing a woman with a phantom pregnancy will probably do is visit her GP or antenatal clinic complaining of all the usual symptoms and minor discomforts of early pregnancy such as absence of periods; breast enlargement; nausea and vomiting; weight gain and abdominal distension. If a urine sample is tested at this stage it will confirm the existence, or otherwise of a pregnancy, but a woman suffering from a true pseudocyesis will continue to insist that she is pregnant, regardless of medical opinion.

Who is at risk?

While the incidence of true pseudocyesis is extremely rare, the most 'at risk' group of women are those in their late thirties or early forties who desperately want a child and have been trying to conceive for many years. These women will normally be quite stable emotionally but will have a tendency to become very emotional over the whole question of pregnancy.

Pseudocyesis can also occur in some women who have lost a pregnancy or a baby and, while it is probably an emotional reaction to their trauma, there is also evidence to suggest that a temporary hormonal imbalance may be a contributory factor.

How is it treated?

The treatment of a woman who is suffering from a true pseudocyesis requires very careful and sympathetic consideration, often with the help of a supportive partner or family network.

Despite the existence of positive medical proof that she is not pregnant, the woman suffering from a phantom pregnancy may remain convinced of her pregnancy for some time, which is one of the reasons why follow-up counselling may have to be arranged for her.

Very severe emotional disturbance may follow in a woman who finally comes to the realization that she has been suffering from a false pregnancy. It is at this stage that the sympathy and understanding of those closest to her is vital, and that the services of a trained counselor may be offered.

Is there a medical explanation for phantom pregnancy?

The phenomenon of phantom pregnancy is a perplexing one for the medical profession. Nobody has yet come up with an explanation as to why a very small percentage of women actually exhibit all the classic symptoms of pregnancy such as weight gain, breast enlargement and abdominal distension when they are not pregnant at all. The fact that a woman actually looks pregnant makes the job of her GP even more difficult when he has to try to explain to her that all her urine samples are testing negative for pregnancy.

Phantom pregnancy or pseudocyesis cannot just be dealt with from a medical or gynecological perspective without taking due consideration of the severe underlying emotional distress and turmoil which has led to the diagnosis of such a condition in the first place.


Are you kidding me? I am actually stunned by this discovery!

IT IS JUST ONE MORE THING ....Anyway… I thought this to be fascinating and now I know that I am probably NOT pregnant- that I just have a touch of this pseudocyesis! Along with miscarriages, panic attacks, mourning, grief, missed periods, a closed fallopian tube and just plain old anger… just add this to the mix.

Anyway- I just thought I would share. Bob and I were not even trying to conceive as I have tests that remain. So being disappointed that I am NOT pregnant is even more confusing… why be disappointed when were weren’t even TRYING and aren’t even READY?

Peeing

I started peeing a lot today...oh, how interesting you say!

But truly… I know that pee. That pee that means you gotta’ go NOW!

I noticed this morning that I had been peeing more than normal.

Hmm, I thought… could it be possible?

Seeing as I just learned my left fallopian tube is closed for business and no chance of remodel, I wonder?

If I count the months I did in fact get pregnant (June & October) they are all EVEN numbered months. So, this would be considered an ODD month.

But I am peeing. And my eyes hurt. Yes.. an odd side effect of pregnancy that I get…"Dry Eyes.”

Something deep inside me says, “YOU’RE PREGNANT!”

It’s only been four days since we had sex. I am not due for my period for another two weeks. Could it be possible that my body knows?

I bought four... count them, FOUR pregnancy tests = total $36. I peed on the stick- actually I over peed on the stick after work today.

I think it doesn’t really matter if we get pregnant now or not. But then who am I kidding? No pun intended.

We still need the Beta 3 Integrin test- don’t ask because I don’t know… but if we got pregnant we would be happy- wouldn't we?

The stick came up with only one line. And those of you who know… you know that one pink line can’t win. I wanted two even if I didn’t. And if I would have gotten two pink likes I would have freaked out!

So, I peed again. One line.

Well, maybe it is just to damn early. The hormones haven’t had a chance to process. Or maybe I am just making this all up in my head.

One pink line. That’s it. That’s all.

FRIDA AND THE MISCARRIAGE

Frida and the Miscarriage

I am fascinated by miscarriage in a way that makes me want to understand it. My own miscarriages have been one dimensional and nonetheless excruciating and painful to my heart and soul. In my quest for understanding I have found some intimate and profound information that I would like to share with you.

Somehow, some of these stories, ideas, pictures and notions heal me. I hope you enjoy reading about some of the following information as I have enjoyed the research and the peace it has brought to my often turbulent heart.


FRIDA KAHLO – FRIDA AND THE MISCARRIAGE

A female figure stands facing us, unclothed, her left side darker than her right, occupying the middle of the frame. She is surrounded with images from the process of human reproduction. The largest of the former is the well-formed male fetus in the frame's lower left, which is connected by a thin umbilical cord wrapped around the figure's right leg to a fetus in an early stage of development in the figure's abdomen, which we see as if by x-ray.

Tear-shaped droplets of blood drip down the figure's left leg and soak into a dark mass in the earth, where they nourish the roots of several plants. A tear rolls down each of the figure's cheeks. Just above her to her left is a weeping crescent moon. Below it is an artist's palette that the figure holds up with a second left arm.

This is a product of Kahlo's first and only attempt at lithography, a project conceived to reduce the effects of depression following her second miscarriage in 1932. Following a near-fatal bus accident at the age of eighteen that left her with injuries to her pelvis, spine, and uterus, Kahlo's chances of bearing a child were slim, but she desperately wanted one by her husband, the painter Diego Rivera, and she tried several times against the odds.

In "Frida and the Miscarriage" (as in Henry Ford Hospital, also in this database), Kahlo makes her sorrow evident. However, the work moves beyond human biology to an almost spiritual view of nature. Blood from the hemorrhage that ended her pregnancy nourishes plants which, as Herrera notes, resemble parts of the human body, perhaps suggesting that death is part of a wider natural cycle of life and death and rebirth. (Interestingly, the work's tears and drops of blood are indistinguishable, both rendered as clear.)

As in several of Kahlo's other works (see Tree of Hope in this database), the figure's darkened left side is associated with the moon and a metaphysics or strategy for survival. This litho adds to that left-side constellation the image of the artist's palette, shaped like a heart but also mirroring the smaller fetus. The palette is held up by a third arm, suggesting that art comes from the "healing side" and provides strength the figure would otherwise not have. Near the end of her life, Kahlo remarked that painting had "completed" her life. Considering how much she suffered, and how much of that suffering is expressed in her art, we may wonder if art had not in fact been for Kahlo the thing that made living possible.

Collection of Dolores Olmedo Foundation, Mexico City
Hayden Herrera, Frida Kahlo: The Paintings (copyright 1991, HarperCollins; Perennial reprint, 2002)

Created in 1932
Woodcock, John A.
8/13/02

http://endeavor.med.nyu.edu/lit-med/lit-med-db/webdocs/webart/kahlo72-art-.html

I Can Do This... We Can Do This...

Okay...

So I thought I was "growing" and I probably am. Last night we went to an art walk and I swear to god every person we saw had a child under two. There were more strollers than I could count... and the cutest baby girl hats I have ever seen. It went unspoken but I know Bob saw it and I know my mom saw it... babies and parent's everywhere.

I felt for my mom last night because I know how badly she wants to be a grandma. She has wanted this for some time- and USE to joke that she would walk through a mall and get caught at the Baby Gap- her nose pressed against the window. That never gets said anymore- and I know she has felt the losses deeply. Though I am the one that carried those babies the people in my life around me were very excited... it was evident in our wedding vows that Bob and I "looked forward to being parent's." It is just so sad.

I think the growth I noticed last night was that I didn't loathe or hate the women or men pushing the strollers. And I probably never "HATED" them- but definitely couldn't stand to be around it. Last night it was more of something I noticed rather than something I felt- it was not a deep tearing of my heart like it was only weeks ago. So, yes... some growth- but I won't lie... I am envious of good eggs, good fallopian tubes, good vaginas, good pregnancies and good birth. How can I not be?

I hold tight to the idea that our time will come - even though I want to knock people's heads off that say that... but I do try to hold close to that notion and maybe it will come true.

In the meantime- Bob and I are living. We are loving. We are painting. We are reading. We are experiencing life for what it is and not for what we think it should be. And that is interesting- Birdseye view from a control freak... let's just say this woman is learning a lot...

So yeah... I can do this... we can do this.

Good Night...

Growing

With each day the loss of our babies grows further away. The pain however weighs in. Sometimes I feel as if I am a tree and my branches are heavy with snow... slowly the snow begins to melt and I am able to move again. I am able to feel the sun on my cheeks and see things I haven't seen perhaps, ever. It is a slow awakening from a long, dark, ugly, terrible, awful nightmare...

Some days are so messy. I am so easily disrupted by memories of what happened. Blood dropping between my legs both times when blood was supposed to be absent. Screaming terror and fear. Notions of loss before the loss even equates mentally. Its all too much. And then there are days when I actually live and breathe without remembering my full loss... until I see a pregnant woman bouncing around, a stroller from behind or baby clothes in a window...

I know now, that I will never, ever take procreation for granted. I will never hope that I am NOT pregnant. I will never forget my little angels and my true love for them. I will never let myself forget the entire story of what happened on July 15th 2004 and November 30th 2004. Those days and the ones before, in between and after have changed me forever.

Sometimes I think my experiences have made me bitter and angry- and in a way they have. But I know deep in my soul that I have gained some knowledge, some introspection and perhaps tools that I may use in my later years... though the lessons are not evident now...I know they exist within me- they take space.

Without learning there are no experiences worth mentioning.

I am grateful for life- for breath-for tomorrow. And I am deathly afraid of loss ... and that fear I will have to combat because we are born to die. I will have to combat my fear of sex. My fear of losing a job because I am pregnant. I will have to fight my bitter temper that explodes without warning on innocent bystanders. I will have to believe that I will get another chance; we will have children and the makings of a family.

I have to conquer the sadness and grief that attaches itself to me when I see other women happy, holding their kin. I will have to learn that it is okay to be sad and pissed and then you gotta' move on. I have to be okay with me before I begin the trek to reproducing. I don't want to regret and I don't want to forget. I will always know my first children as the ones that were lost. They will always be my first.

Tonight- their mittens hang from the beautiful tree in Denver- overlooking the snowcapped mountains- and that calms me.

At least I can find peace in pieces.

Tired of Being Tired

Anger

I thought about my fallopian tube a lot today. I wonder when it closed. I wonder how I got pregnant twice in six months with such ease. I wonder why my little tube decided to close... I guess I will never know.

But somehow, it really saddens me. Like a part of my body has died. A piece of me has thrown the towel in and called it quits. And I never would have known probably if it weren't for the two miscarriages. This was "incidental."

I feel really tired lately. Those who know me would say this is no surprise. I really am tired. I am tired of bad news and no news. Of circumstances gone awry. I am tired of things not working the way they are supposed too. I am tired of feeling like my body has deceived me. I am tired of seeing so many women in pain- I am tired of being in pain.

Sometimes I dream... and I dream of better times. I feel a baby in my arms. I feel whole and alive. Unlike now in my waking hours.

Closed for Business

I got my test results from my HSG. Though, they were not what I expected. I thought my uterus would be abnormally shaped- or that I would have polyps. But what they found is that my left fallopian tube is closed.

Hearing this news was quite odd. I have been able to get pregnant, no problem. But come to find that my little fallopian tube that I thought was so trusty has closed itself inside of me for some reason or another.

This has nothing to do with my miscarriages. So, again, I do not have any conclusive "evidence." I still have one more test to go which will be the Endometreal Biopsy- which they are actually going to go a little further and test for Beta 3 Integrin. Sounds like a carrot mixed with aspirin...

This is what the test is "About 15% to 20% of the time, the cause of the infertility cannot be identified. This can lead to treatments that may be both stressful and expensive, yet still be less than effective.
Some women with unexplained infertility may have changes in the functioning of a reproductive organ (the uterus) that can now be detected with the E-tegrity test. In order for a pregnancy to occur, the uterus must create certain chemicals (integrins) at the right times, and E-tegrity tests for the presence of these integrins."

I asked my Doctor if this test was painful and bless her heart she said "I am going to have to get right up in there... so don't be killin' me if you are in pain... I would take something." I am so pleased that someone in the medical field told the truth today.

In my life, I never knew there were so many tests- so many procedures- so many things to research and investigate. I thought I would just get knocked up and then give birth with a couple of cravings in between. Oh, how misguided I was. And, today I got a call from a friend who is four months pregnant with her first and they think the baby has Down syndrome. She doesn't know what to do. Her husband and she are in total and complete shock. I have often wondered what I would "do" if I found out that I was pregnant with a baby that would be born with Down syndrome. It is a tough question. I just never knew how complicated fertility and infertility could be.


So, here's to all of those who struggle- with choice- with closed tubes- with babies not sticking- with pain from loss- with failed attempts and with dreams gone awry.

And They Said It Wouldn't Be Painful....

Pain

Who knew that there were different sized speculums? I never knew... and all this time - each exam- the opening of my vagina - with a huge, steel speculum... always causing tears and pain... screams from the deepest part of my woman soul...

Today, when I went in for my HSG - hysterosalpingogram which is an X-ray of the uterus and fallopian tubes which allows visualization of the inside of the uterus and tubes. The hope is that the picture will reveal any abnormalities of the uterus as well as tubal problems such as blockage and dilation. I know my problem is not closed fallopian tubes... I can get pregnant- I just can't stay pregnant. I am scared to death about the results of this test.

I learned that yes, Doctors can choose their size of speculum and that it doesn't have to be painful...every time you have a pelvic exam... wow... who knew?

Though, for anyone out there... the HSG test was one of the more painful procedures I have ever experienced in my life. I did it because I want to know what is wrong with my uterus and why can't I carry a baby? It took them 1 hour to even get into my vagina to find my cervix... and then goes the dye- shooting into my uterus like rocket fuel- acidic and burning- cramping like I have never felt before (and I have a huge pain tolerance).

I cried my eyes out. I should have brought a friend or my husband. I just feel like a vestibule for needles- all the poking a prodding is really waring me down.

When I called to make the appointment I asked if I should take a pain killer before I came in. The person scheduling said, "Oh, no you won't need any of that, it is just a little cramping." Who are these people? How can they be so terribly misleading to patients? I am so furious with the ENTIRE medical community- I cannot even fathom going in for one more exam. I am toast. I am lost. I am tired. I am angry- so angry.

I have to get a biopsy done and for that I think I will shoot some heroin. If only I had the stamina for one more needle.

I await my results.

My Blood is Good

Woman in a Seabrook

After several weeks of waiting for my blood tests results I almost forgot about them. I figured if something was wrong the OBGYN would call. She called today. But the problem is all my blood is normal. Why is that a problem you ask? Well, first of all, it would seem that losing two babies in a six month period of time could be explained with something that might be wrong with me. But my blood work is perfectly normal so there is nothing to “fix.” I am confused. They warned me that I should prepare myself that everything may come back “normal…” but I never thought it would.

I still have to get a biopsy and perhaps something there will be abnormal. And I still have to get my uterus shot with pink dye… I am sure there is a scientific name for this but I forget what it is? Of course, it isn’t as if I want something to be wrong- I just wish there was an explanation- and maybe there never will be. But what if I get through these tests and I am ALL NORMAL?

What an oxy-moron… for the first time in my life I was hoping for bad test results so that I could at least have hope knowing that my losses were a result of XYZ… but my losses, as of today cannot be explained. How frustrating.

I hate not having control. Taking control away from a control freak is like taking crack away from a crack addict… And I know control is an illusion… but still, I like to think I have some… humor me.

I will know more after the remaining tests in March.

Our Babies Have a Home

Our Babies Have a Home

Bob suggested we take the mittens right away. As I sat at my computer writing the last blog I didn't think I could stand up, let alone go hang my lost babies mittens on a tree next to a gravesite of a long lost friend.

But we did it. Bob hung the blue mittens with a note inside. I hung the green mittens with a note tucked away as well. I took pictures with the digital camera. Somehow, years down the road I will be glad that I have these pictures. Our faces swollen with tears.

I have no idea where I just found the strength to do that. My husband probably. The need to release. The need to move forward and find my smile again. The need to let me little souls fly free.

The mittens are overlooking the Front Range of Colorado. Each night they will see an amazing sunset. Every morning a quiet and smooth sunrise. I know because I have spent time at Spence's grave... I know what it looks like early in the morning. I know what it looks like at Christmas. I know what it looks like in summertime. It is a beautiful place.

I feel better... my babies have a home.

Hanging Mittens

So many women pay tribute to their lost babies. And for the last few months, after losing two babies, I think this has been too painful a thought. I cannot clip an angel pin to my blazers- that just isn't me. I cannot buy birth stones as my babies we not born. I admit, I have ridiculed the symbols in my mind and have not been able to understand how doing something symbolic to honor my unborn children would help make matters better.

Today, my husband and I had to pass time before a movie and we hit the mall that was attached. We wandered around with no real destination, no goal. The loads of strollers and babies grabbed at my heart and tugged as if it were war. The children popping up from every corner of my vision dug a hole in my gaping wound... and then it all collapsed when I saw the babies being propped up like dolls in the window of a studio wearing bunny ears, surrounded with painted eggs, pastel background to boot.

I collapsed. The tears streamed so hot and so easily down my face. It is like a cannon ball bursting through the core of my being- it takes over. I have never in my life experienced something so powerful as the grief I feel with the loss of our two babies. Nothing in the world, in this life, in any book, on any blog, in any grief group will ever prepare or completely heal someone for the loss of a child, a baby, even a fetus. They are different levels of loss- but they are as deep and vast as the Grand Canyon. Nothing can fill that hole.

My husband held my neck to steer me away from the window with the propped babies in bunny ears. He pointed me forward. He was driving me like a car...trying to avoid a crash, a scene, any more pain. But the pain is always there, even when I steer clear of it.

We stumbled into a dollar store to look around for nothing. My eyes were out of focus and my heart thumping from the near crash of human and public displays of total pain and sadness. I came across little tiny mittens. One pair of green and one pair of blue. I had to buy them. I wanted to honor our babies - and it was then that I understood the symbolism.

I decided right there and then that we would take these little mittens and string them in the tree that we planted when one of our very close friends died 15 years ago. In that tree are bells that my father hung the day Spence was buried. When the tree was planted 15 years ago I could reach those bells. Now they pierce the sky and I would need a ladder. Beneath the tree is Spence's grave. On his grave there is a poem that Spence wrote before he die, It reads: "You cannot beg a rose to stay, oh why does it have to be that way."

I don't think Bob knew how to handle my request at doing this but said "If it will make you fell better...." I think the idea of creating a symbolic remembrance really caught his breath like an unsuspecting fish nagged by a hook. I don't know if it will make me feel better but I am going to do it anyway. I am not sure if anything will make me feel better. But the mittens.... somehow... they belong in the tree by Spence. And in my gut I know that.

Bob and I are going to take these mittens, a step ladder and pin notes inside and hang them by the bells. This is the perfect place. The mittens can see the mountains and feel the wind. They will see the first flower pop its head through the ground when spring wakes through the cold winter. They will see the sky and hear the birds. They will feel the hot sun and see the stars. They will be together as they should be - in death as they could have been in life. Perhaps, they are all together looking down together...

I am sorry for every ridiculing physical memorials of miscarried children. I wasn't big enough or strong enough to fathom the idea that someone could actually draw more relevance to an unborn child than necessary... and through this blog and my writing, I have come to realize that no matter what the age of a baby that is lost, 2 months 20 years, there is always relevance to a life and a life that has been lost. I can't not honor my babies.

What Do You Say To The Dead...

Woman Crying

Someone told me recently that all souls choose their time. They choose their parent's and they choose their length of stay. I am not sure if this was a comforting thought for me. All I can think is "why didn't my two little souls choose to stay with us?" If this philosophy is true, then why didn't my babies want to stay? What made it that their stay had to be so entirely too short on this planet. So short in fact, that I never ever got to meet, hold or kiss each one.

I am not sure how I feel about that statement. Or any of the statements and words of comfort that come spouting out from people trying to console the unexplained. "Oh, it is just natures way of taking care of itself." "Don't worry, you will have others!" Or what about "Don't worry, you will get to try again, and the fun is all in the trying!" What people in general don't understand is these words and anecdotes are actually the salt in the wound- at least for me.

The fact that I get to "try" again is really great. But it doesn't bring my first two babies back. The fact that it might have been natures way of taking care of herself... well, I am not one to argue with mother nature- though I would like too. It is the words that people are so quick to speak when they have NO idea what they are talking about and have NO idea what someone like myself and the countless millions of other women are going through.

The best words I have received thus far have been "I am really sorry. If you ever need to talk or cry I am right here." Simple. Open. Smart.

It is hard to know what to say when someone loses someone. I know. It is awkward. Strange and uncomfortable- but it cannot be ignored nor replaced with anecdotes. If someone lost their mother I wouldn't say "Well, at least you had a mother!" Or, "Well, she lived a long and happy life." These statements really are void of all thought. They are stupid and dense. Perhaps just saying "I'm sorry for your loss... if there is anything I can do please call." That is enough. That says it all. No one can ever measure the depth of someone else's pain and the run of the mill words don't work- they are shallow- they lack introspection and actually make things sting even more.

I have been guilty of these thoughtless words. And through my experiences of losing two babies I will no longer think I can make someone feel better with fadic communion- death deserves more thought and concern and perhaps less quip and whimsy.

Fish Bowl Babies

I keep dreaming of dead babies. I don't know why- but they are dead. I always feel like a bystander and there is nothing I can do.

How awful it is to wake in the morning and still feel helpless and unable to save my babies from dying.

Sometimes I dream that I see a baby growing in a fish bowl... I watch it as it grows... like one of those toys you I use to emerge in water and watch it expand to the size of its environment. Fish Bowl Baby... if only it were that easy to grow a baby..."just add water."

Sometimes I dream I have my hand on my belly and there is a baby inside. And there isn't.

Pregnancy surrounds me and I am not even pregnant. It follows me in and out of my dreams.

I just wonder if I will ever know the innocence that I felt the second I realized that I was pregnant for the first time... the possibility that I felt. The love I knew. The difference in myself overnight. I wonder if I will know that again- or will I feel threat and fear if I am ever able to conceive again?

I wonder if I will ever be able to grow a baby.

What the Hell Do I Want Anyway?

I have no idea what I want from day to day. Some days I picture myself as a high powered executive in the business world...Other days I am a mom holding a baby. After having 2 miscarriages I feel confused. Some days I am absolute in what I want. And what I want is to try again...Have hope...Grow big...Give birth and be a mom to a beautiful child.

Other days I question myself and my entire "plan" here on earth. "Maybe I wasn't meant to have a baby" I say to others... outloud... to test the waters. Most say that I am being silly. That a lot of women have miscarriages and they don't give up.

Sometimes I just don't know how I will go through another pregnancy...

Wondering from moment to moment if I will feel the slip of blood- a fetus dropping down to die.

I wonder how I will feel if we try to get pregnant and have complications?
And if we try and are successful, what exactly will that look like?

I wonder all of this. It is all so unpredictable. When I was pregnant with the 2nd baby I swore I couldn't go through it again if I lost that pregnancy... and then I lost it. And as time moves on... I think I may have another try in me... I may be able to give it a go....

But the corporate woman edges her way into my brain. The woman feeding a child splits my brain. Is it possible to have both? Is it better to be one or the other? I worry that I will fail. I feel as if I have already failed not being able to carry a child.

And I wonder if it would be easier to come back as a man in my next life?