Solitary in Sanity

This post was written for inclusion in the Pregnancy Loss Week Blog Carnival. Please join us at Fertility Flower for the week of August 23-27, 2010 where we will be featuring articles, posts and artwork about pregnancy loss.

What actions did you take to memorialize the lost child/children?

We nicknamed our first baby “Lemon” before we even knew we were pregnant. I wrote Lemon, come to us! on the chalkboard wall in our kitchen. Jim drew a lemon and added eyes and a mouth. We were absolutely ecstatic to find out that Lemon did indeed come to us that month. I discovered we were pregnant on April 24, 2010. As soon as I saw that blue cross appear, I started laughing out loud. I was giddy with joy. As for later on, the truth is, I spent much of my pregnancy totally worried that something would go wrong. At 11 weeks, 1 day, we found out that something had gone terribly wrong for Lemon. He or she just wasn’t prepared for this journey with us.

We allowed ourselves two days to grieve and all in all, recovered from the loss rather quickly. We knew that in order to move on and start trying to conceive again, we would have to adopt a postive outlook and regain hope that we would become parents soon. Though I knew this did not mean that I wouldn’t think about the life we created every day. Moving on and forgetting are not one in the same.

I searched Etsy for something special to commemorate our first baby. I chose a delicate little necklace with a yellow, lemon-shaped crystal. I fell in love with the lemon necklace because it’s such a simple piece – that for me – carries significant meaning. Its top comes to a point and I often find myself shoving my finger down onto it. This hurts for a moment and it sort of pulls me up out of any momentary slump I’m in; mostly because it reminds me of the real pain felt when I looked at an ultrasound screen on June 15th and read “heartrate __”

For a short time, our hearts beat together in the same body. That honor was taken away from me all too quickly. Now this lemon sits just inches away from my heart and helps comfort the aches caused by the longing for an opportunity to nurture a life once again.

is it completely insane that i wrote all of this? i worried from day one. did i know?

This was a rough weekend emotionally. I know I’ll be pregnant again one day, but each day is a constant reminder that I should still be pregnant. I leave the house and it seems like every women is pregnant and every person is toting an infant. We spent a lot of time in my husband’s hometown this weekend. I have this enormous guilt about letting everyone in his family down. And of course I know they don’t feel this way and maybe there is a better term that is escaping me…but they are such an amazing family and they were so overjoyed to learn we were expecting. In their family, it was like we were all pregnant. Jim is the oldest, was the first to marry and we were going to have the first great-grandchild. If I was the bearer of all that joy, then I was the reason it all went away. The reason why talk of babies used to be fun (when are you guys going to have a baby? we could really use a baby around here, you know!) and now it’s awkward and almost forbidden.

On Friday we were out with my inlaws and I turned around to spy the tiniest infant crying hysterically. My eyes welled up with tears. I thought my mother in law witnessed this and then later, while we were standing over her shoulder making fun of the Fingerhut catalogue she was reading, I noticed that she purposely double-turned the page to skip over a two page spread on baby items.

Yeah, 7 months of trying and one miscarriage and already I’m that woman.

It has been a month since we found out we lost our Lemon. Today’s date on my calendar is marked with a 15, how far along I would have been. Luckily, I only marked through July, so I won’t have to look at those numbers next month – especially 20, the halfway point. I cried today for the first time in a while. I know it will happen, I’m just tired of waiting. Unfortunately I am growing increasingly resentful towards complaining mothers, moms-to-be and those who were given a baby they weren’t even planning on. I guess this is something that will only get worse over time. The longer I go un-pregnant, the angrier they will make me. At the same time, I was comforted by this post (via ComaGirl). Looking back on her TTC process, Nichole from In These Small Moments says:

“Looking back, I realize that those months of trying made the joy of having this amazing baby girl even sweeter.

She was worth every single moment of effort and I will be ever grateful for her.  I learned so much about myself, about Craig, and about patience.”

That’s something you can’t get without a whole lot of trying.

Each month, as I wait for my period to skip me, I am bonding with the little life that could be inside of me. We even came up with a funny name for the next one. It’s a cute one, with a sweet story. Hopefully I can share it with you soon.

I know I promised more from this story, but I can’t create anything that’s worth anything these days. I am carrying on, but find my heart filled with incredible sadness each day.

I had to hide all pregnant friends on Facebook. I can’t stand hearing good news from the happy ones or the complaints from the miserable ones.

I am finding that like drinking, I have to take this one day at a time. A thought about a future event makes me remember, i was supposed to be 18 weeks by then. When Comcast tells me that my promotional package ends on January 5th, I have to quickly tell the man that I must hang up. two days after my due date. A mention of Jim’s 30th birthday reminds me that he always wanted to be a dad by 30 – and he won’t be.

During the next 6 months there are going to be constant reminders of where I should have been in my pregnancy. And while people try to comfort you with thoughts like you’ll be parents someday. there will be another baby – i want to shout BUT I WANTED THAT BABY. THIS JANUARY. I HAD A BABY ALREADY. I WANT THAT ONE.

June 20th 10:25pm

this sucks.

With this experience, I have found religion. Post miscarriage, I believe. I believe in my body. Allow me to explain.

You may know I’m a bit of a natural, for lack of a better term. I’m not a full on vegan, composting, bike to work kind of gal, though I do help the environment by working from home – wink. I practice a fairly healthy lifestyle. I believe in eating food with the fewest possible ingredients, looking to my diet before consulting a doctor about an ailment, breathing deeply when I’m feeling overwhelmed, taking a walk before taking an advil, saying no to a plastic bag whenever necessary. Along the same lines, I am very passionate about natural childbirth. We planned on a birth center birth, in an effort to avoid unnecessary medical interventions during labor and delivery. So when we got the news that our baby had stopped growing at 7 weeks, I immediately knew which option I’d go with. The OB at the hospital that my midwife sent me to after observing that my uterus was not where it should be, said I had three options. (that sentence is weird, i’m over it) She said I could 1.wait it out, and that there was no harm in doing so, as my body will do what it has to. 2. Have a D&C. 3. Take some pill to induce the miscarriage. Clearly, I went with option one. I have a history of cervical issues and I did not want anyone manipulating it further.  I also didn’t want any procedure holding up our efforts to try conceiving once again. Going the natural way means you can get back to bed that much quicker.

With this information and newfound sadness in our hearts, we came home on Tuesday night and grieved. Together, we spent the following day grieving, crying, trying to make each other laugh, getting angry and at last, talking about our future as parents. Knowing that we couldn’t stay in the house any longer, we decided to head to the beach on Thursday. Jim is not a fan of lying on the beach, but was excited to show me around the boardwalk where he spent his summers as a kid. We laid on the beach and had lunch, then we packed up and strolled the boardwalk. We both got a little of what we wanted. We were happy, smiling, and healing with the help of some old fashioned vitamin D.

That night before I got into bed I started cramping pretty badly…

and with that I’ll stop. more tomorrow.

Number of warm, lingering hugs I received: 30+

Number of desserts I ate: 5

Number of times I feigned a smile: 10+

Number of tylenol taken: 8

Number of panic attacks I had: 2

Number of full balanced meals consumed: 1

Number of times I wanted a drink: countless

June 17th 10:20 am

This morning I actually got up and took jj for our morning walk. Poor guy has been so good, dealing with us being listless and me sobbing uncontrollably. I even lifted weights for a few mins. I’m a firm believer that exercise improves moods. We’re going to the beach today. We need to get out and live life. I can’t stay in bed until 1 pm ever again. Days of our lives came on and do you know the subject matter involves the same old shit from last I watched in 1998? Bo was taking about Hope.

Forget what I ever said about not working.

June 17th 12:35pm

Im astounded at the amount of inner strength that came over me this morning. I started and ended Wednesday in tears. Before bed, I told Jim that I couldn’t promise him that I won’t wake up crying in the dark again. Of course, he said “it’s okay if you do.”
I woke up at 4 again. I couldn’t cry. I didn’t want to. I didn’t need to. less than 48 hrs after discovering I would not be a momma in 6 months, I  got dressed, left the house and smiled at the girl working at Wawa. I even grabbed a piece of paper to use as a bookmark and on it, wrote a single word: hope.

June 17th 8:25 pm

Self pity won’t get me anywhere. I grieved for a day and I woke up today realizing that these things happen for a reason, that the words “not fair” are fucking ridiculous. One day soon, Jim and I will be parents. I don’t know where this strength came from…I’m proud to say that it didn’t come from a faith in god. I could, of course, wake up tomorrow in tears, but I doubt it. I have too much to be happy about. And with this new realization of just how sensitive pregnancy and fertility is, I know that next time around I will be more lax about trying to conceive. I never talked about it on the blog because I felt it wasn’t right. Trying for 4 months doesn’t exactly qualify as complaint-worthy. For some couples, it can take years. Shit, some people never find love or secure a life partner. Most people don’t wake up every morning to the cutest, most loving, and certainly the happiest dog in all the world. We do. To boot, we have an amazing group of family and loved ones. Everyone has come through with incredible words of support and kindness. Each message served as a reminder that we are loved, not to mention, incredibly lucky.

these are notes i’ve been keeping. they’re raw and unedited. just typed up in notes on my iPhone and emailed over.

Tuesday June 15th 6:18pm

I’m laying here in a hospital gown that I didn’t even know how to put on. Do they all have just one arm hole? I don’t believe I’ve worn one before. I was in the hospital in college. I thought I was dying from this pain in my stomach. But I think I refused to put one on. I tried to refuse the IV, but when they told me they needed it to administer pain meds, I happily Obliged. Free high? I’ll take it any way you’re doling it out. We planned on a birth center birth, so I guess this is like course correcting. The universe was giving me a hospital stay no matter what. I have no idea what’s going on with my baby right now. Tht is terrifying. But I have to find comfort in the chance that everything is alright.
There was little hope in my midwife’s voice, and if you ever met a natural birth advocate, you know they’re about as comforting and calming as they come.
If I go with her, I’m fucked.
If I go with the hospital (as an idiot) I would assume there’s no reason for alarm, since they’ve let me sit here for nearly 2 hrs.
If I go with my gut, i’m just hungry.

I never feared childbirth, again, this is natures way of forcing me into intense fear. I’ve never been so scared in all my Life.

Wednesday June 16th 4:31am

I’m never going to sleep again. but I know that sounds ridiculous. I told Jim we could promise one another that we’d wake up today and put this behind us, move on. Then I woke up howling tears because I remembered, everything is still inside of me. I don’t want to say the baby. At 7 wks, just an embryo. And to think we were imagining the little hands and feet moving by now. no hands and feet. That brings me comfort.

I knew.

Wednesday June 16th 10:41pm

my cramps hurt so much. But I want to feel them. I didn’t want pain meds or any intervention for lemon’s birth. This too, I want to feel. I need to experience this. This is part of the process. Except that in the end, rather than being handed 7 pounds of beautiful joy, I’m left with nothing but the hope that one day soon, we can begin again.

Dear Lemon,                           6-16

I am so sorry that I will never get to meet you.

Love,

Momma