As time passes, it gets easier to not be so sad about miscarrying. In fact, sometimes I feel downright ridiculous for ever being so upset about it. That being said...
I have told a few people and every single one has asked, "So if you hadn't taken a pregnancy test, you wouldn't have even known, right?".
Yes. And a big fat NO.
I felt pregnant. I was constipated, tingly in the chesty area, and emotional beyond all get-out.
I felt pregnant. I knew there was something inside of me. I connected to this little pea. My brain was chugging at Baby: Full steam ahead.
Somehow, when they ask me that, it makes me feel less credible. Like, I'm being a drama mama for experiencing any sadness about it or for even mentioning it.
At the same time, I don't want anyone hovering over me, watching me for signs of depression. Whether I am depressed or not.
These days, I don't think about it every second, but I still can't seem to pull my head out of the fridge. I am going to severely regret the poor decisions I am making right now. I've already gained over five pounds in less than a week.
I can hardly go on Facebook without sneering at several of the status updates. Everyone and their dog is pregnant right now and complaining about every little ache and pain and the waiting game.
Shut. Up.
At least you have something in there.
I know this is all very bitter and immature, but I can't seem to smother that twinge of anger completely.
And I am a complete hypocrite. Not so long ago, every single time I would complain about the new level of psychosis my children were driving me to on Facebook, this girl would leave comments such as: "At least you can get pregnant" or "I wouldn't know; I can't bear children".
It was ridiculous. *roll eyes and groan* Yes. We all know you're infertile. How sorry can we be?
Now...here I sit in my little dark, stormy mood and think similar things.
Karma? or a walk in another man's shoes??
The Bitter, better with butter, Pod
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Monday, November 30, 2009
just (b)eat it
I called my OBGYN's office today and talked to his medical assistant. I described what had occurred over the past two weeks. She told me I had indeed miscarried.
It was an early miscarriage. No medical attention needed, but worth mentioning on medical records in the future.
Now...???
Ask me in a couple of weeks. Right now I am too busy doing nothing but wallowing in self-pity and pans of rice krispie treats, sticks of string cheese, and gallons of Dr. Pepper.
The Swelling (but not from baby) Pod
It was an early miscarriage. No medical attention needed, but worth mentioning on medical records in the future.
Now...???
Ask me in a couple of weeks. Right now I am too busy doing nothing but wallowing in self-pity and pans of rice krispie treats, sticks of string cheese, and gallons of Dr. Pepper.
The Swelling (but not from baby) Pod
Saturday, November 28, 2009
rotten veggies
How {*blank} that I started miscarrying on Black Friday.
*fitting, funny, ironic, coincidental, metaphorical, allegorical, oxymoronic, stupid, strange, rotten, melancholy...
*fitting, funny, ironic, coincidental, metaphorical, allegorical, oxymoronic, stupid, strange, rotten, melancholy...
The Empty Pod
Black Friday.
At 2 am I found myself in the ER with our 16-month old who was struggling to breath. My children and I have had rotten colds this week and the baby's illness was getting the best of her airways.
As much as a hospital bill frightens me, seeing my tiny girl fighting for breaths was terrifying. I concluded the stomach ache I felt while cradling her in the hospital room was a result of the panic I felt for her. Or maybe the late/early hour.
After the nurses and doctor treated her for croup (three children and I have never dealt with this particular illness before), they sent us home to bed. Upon waking, I habitually went to the bathroom.
Blood. More. Heavier than before. Not good.
I hoped for the best and remembered hearing stories of other women still having their periods while pregnant. Still feeling uneasy, I went to the store and purchased yet another pregnancy test.
It was negative. Not even a faint, teeny, tiny, trace of a line.
I was prepared to think about this ending in a miscarriage, but I wasn't prepared for the wave of grief I felt as I saw that negative result.
I cried.
I showed my husband the result. I gave him a baby the day before. The next day, it was gone.
I feel...a fool.
I feel like a dramatic little girl who is upset about her toy getting taken away. I am angry at myself for getting so emotional about it. I am ashamed of myself for making such a big deal out of the pregnancy beforehand and then to make a big deal out of this.
I feel embarrassed to even call it a "miscarriage". I am still not quite sure what to call what has happened. There was a line on that stupid, stupid test. Now there is no line. At one point I WAS PREGNANT. Now, I am not. It is gone. That little line is gone and with it that child I was safeguarding.
I am so conflicted right now. I am incredibly saddened...and I don't feel like I should be. For heaven's sake I was only about 5 weeks along. Hardly far enough along to be real. But it was very real for me.
For the past two weeks I have been tending this sweet, little secret in my head and in my belly. I was pondering what my little pea would look like, smell like. I was getting excited to feel it move within me and to eventually hold it in my arms. I wondered if it was a boy or girl.
I felt so sure I had "Mother's Intuition". I had thought I had spiritual impressions regarding this particular pregnancy, that this child was special. That it was specifically meant to come to our family at this time. That it would complete our family.
I just KNEW all these things about this pregnancy. And now that it is over before it's hardly begun...I hardly know what I KNOW now. Do I trust my spiritual promptings? Was I imagining the whole thing?
I know I am "dramatic". I know this about myself. But now I don't know what to do with myself. Am I allowed to mourn? Was there even anything to mourn? My husband doesn't even want me to talk to others about it. I did tell my sisters and mom and I know he was displeased with me for that. He feels that talking about it will make it into a bigger deal than it is. Part of me agrees with him and part of me doesn't.
And part of me realizes that it is okay that this ended. It means that something was wrong and it is good that it didn't progress further. For that I am grateful. I think now I am just so confused about how to feel about this especially since I felt so strongly before about this particular pregnancy.
I still have trouble saying "I am having a miscarriage". I am going to call the doctor on Monday and if they tell it was a miscarriage, I will call it that. But if they pass it off as no big deal, I will try to do that too.
For now, I am sifting through a lot of different feelings. Waves of sadness are still washing over me. For the past two weeks my thinking and planning has been picking up steam, taking me to the destination of Baby: July 2010. Now, I need to slow the train, stop it, and get off.
Part of me wants to sit around and be depressed and eat. It is important that I don't get caught up in that reasoning. That will not help anything.
Part of me wants to tell people, but part of me doesn't. I want to ask questions, but I don't want to annoy my husband and I don't want to appear to be the dramatic fool I feel.
I will admit, part of me feels relieved. The timing was off in the practical sense. The baby would have been due July 30. July is already a hectic month for our family with lots of birthdays, anniversary, and holidays. Now, I won't have to struggle with morning sickness through the holidays. I can get re-started on my jogging like I had planned to do before. I can focus on the three beautiful children I have and on the housework and projects vying for my attention.
I am most certain there will be another pregnancy in the future that will produce that fourth child I felt so profoundly about. And all will be well...soon.
No longer The Pod
At 2 am I found myself in the ER with our 16-month old who was struggling to breath. My children and I have had rotten colds this week and the baby's illness was getting the best of her airways.
As much as a hospital bill frightens me, seeing my tiny girl fighting for breaths was terrifying. I concluded the stomach ache I felt while cradling her in the hospital room was a result of the panic I felt for her. Or maybe the late/early hour.
After the nurses and doctor treated her for croup (three children and I have never dealt with this particular illness before), they sent us home to bed. Upon waking, I habitually went to the bathroom.
Blood. More. Heavier than before. Not good.
I hoped for the best and remembered hearing stories of other women still having their periods while pregnant. Still feeling uneasy, I went to the store and purchased yet another pregnancy test.
It was negative. Not even a faint, teeny, tiny, trace of a line.
I was prepared to think about this ending in a miscarriage, but I wasn't prepared for the wave of grief I felt as I saw that negative result.
I cried.
I showed my husband the result. I gave him a baby the day before. The next day, it was gone.
I feel...a fool.
I feel like a dramatic little girl who is upset about her toy getting taken away. I am angry at myself for getting so emotional about it. I am ashamed of myself for making such a big deal out of the pregnancy beforehand and then to make a big deal out of this.
I feel embarrassed to even call it a "miscarriage". I am still not quite sure what to call what has happened. There was a line on that stupid, stupid test. Now there is no line. At one point I WAS PREGNANT. Now, I am not. It is gone. That little line is gone and with it that child I was safeguarding.
I am so conflicted right now. I am incredibly saddened...and I don't feel like I should be. For heaven's sake I was only about 5 weeks along. Hardly far enough along to be real. But it was very real for me.
For the past two weeks I have been tending this sweet, little secret in my head and in my belly. I was pondering what my little pea would look like, smell like. I was getting excited to feel it move within me and to eventually hold it in my arms. I wondered if it was a boy or girl.
I felt so sure I had "Mother's Intuition". I had thought I had spiritual impressions regarding this particular pregnancy, that this child was special. That it was specifically meant to come to our family at this time. That it would complete our family.
I just KNEW all these things about this pregnancy. And now that it is over before it's hardly begun...I hardly know what I KNOW now. Do I trust my spiritual promptings? Was I imagining the whole thing?
I know I am "dramatic". I know this about myself. But now I don't know what to do with myself. Am I allowed to mourn? Was there even anything to mourn? My husband doesn't even want me to talk to others about it. I did tell my sisters and mom and I know he was displeased with me for that. He feels that talking about it will make it into a bigger deal than it is. Part of me agrees with him and part of me doesn't.
And part of me realizes that it is okay that this ended. It means that something was wrong and it is good that it didn't progress further. For that I am grateful. I think now I am just so confused about how to feel about this especially since I felt so strongly before about this particular pregnancy.
I still have trouble saying "I am having a miscarriage". I am going to call the doctor on Monday and if they tell it was a miscarriage, I will call it that. But if they pass it off as no big deal, I will try to do that too.
For now, I am sifting through a lot of different feelings. Waves of sadness are still washing over me. For the past two weeks my thinking and planning has been picking up steam, taking me to the destination of Baby: July 2010. Now, I need to slow the train, stop it, and get off.
Part of me wants to sit around and be depressed and eat. It is important that I don't get caught up in that reasoning. That will not help anything.
Part of me wants to tell people, but part of me doesn't. I want to ask questions, but I don't want to annoy my husband and I don't want to appear to be the dramatic fool I feel.
I will admit, part of me feels relieved. The timing was off in the practical sense. The baby would have been due July 30. July is already a hectic month for our family with lots of birthdays, anniversary, and holidays. Now, I won't have to struggle with morning sickness through the holidays. I can get re-started on my jogging like I had planned to do before. I can focus on the three beautiful children I have and on the housework and projects vying for my attention.
I am most certain there will be another pregnancy in the future that will produce that fourth child I felt so profoundly about. And all will be well...soon.
No longer The Pod
Friday, November 27, 2009
update
The bleeding had stopped.
I wouldn't have even called it bleeding. Spotting really. It only lasted about a day or two. Then it was gone. The at-home tests confirmed I was still pregnant.
The bleeding has begun again today. Brighter, heavier. I am worried. This is definitely not normal.
I wouldn't have even called it bleeding. Spotting really. It only lasted about a day or two. Then it was gone. The at-home tests confirmed I was still pregnant.
The bleeding has begun again today. Brighter, heavier. I am worried. This is definitely not normal.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
mi bebe es su bebe
The Gardener knows.
I couldn't take it. This secret was too much for me to carry alone.
I wrote the address of this blog down on a card, slipped it into the cover of The Secret, wrapped it, and gave it to my husband.
He opened it and gave me The Look. The Look that says, "This better not be what I think it is!"
It took him a few minutes of reading...Then: "Is this a joke??"
Don't judge him too harshly! The poor man has been manipulated in the past. One ill-humored April Fool's joke can create resonating tetchy feelings for years.
He didn't jump up and down like a giddy little school girl, but he evidenced enough affection and tenderness to allay my fears of his displeasure with our latest and greatest news.
I love that man of mine!
Revealingly, The Pod
I couldn't take it. This secret was too much for me to carry alone.
I wrote the address of this blog down on a card, slipped it into the cover of The Secret, wrapped it, and gave it to my husband.
He opened it and gave me The Look. The Look that says, "This better not be what I think it is!"
It took him a few minutes of reading...Then: "Is this a joke??"
Don't judge him too harshly! The poor man has been manipulated in the past. One ill-humored April Fool's joke can create resonating tetchy feelings for years.
He didn't jump up and down like a giddy little school girl, but he evidenced enough affection and tenderness to allay my fears of his displeasure with our latest and greatest news.
I love that man of mine!
Revealingly, The Pod
A Post for The Gardener
My dearest Gardener,
Happy Thanksgiving!
Today, as every other day, I am very grateful for you and our little family! I appreciate all you do for us. I am thankful you are such a faithful and hard-working provider. I love you very much!!
We have much to be grateful for everyday and now we have even more...
As I am pregnant with our fourth baby!
Congratulations Big Papa!
I love you!
Love, Your Wife (The Pod)
Happy Thanksgiving!
Today, as every other day, I am very grateful for you and our little family! I appreciate all you do for us. I am thankful you are such a faithful and hard-working provider. I love you very much!!
We have much to be grateful for everyday and now we have even more...
As I am pregnant with our fourth baby!
Congratulations Big Papa!
I love you!
Love, Your Wife (The Pod)
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