Something I Didn't Want To Write About

I was debating whether or not to write about this in my blog, but since this experience, I have never felt more distant from other human beings in my life. So I thought, fuck it, I write about everything else.

I lost the baby. I thought I was safe as we were well past the three month mark, and then I started to bleed. I went in for an ultrasound and after three seperate people coming in to stare at the screen, a doctor finally turned to me and said: the fetus is not viable, the heart has stopped beating. Of course I was in complete shock. I thought I was just having a bit of spotting.

Anyway. They all left the room without going to get my husband. They left him waiting, oblivious to the situation, happily reading his National Geographic. I stumbled into my clothes, steeled my nerves, and made my way to the waiting room. Suffice it to say, I was looking a little pale at this point and my husband surmised that something was wrong.

After a visit to my family doctor, I was prepped for the possibility that my body would not miscarry naturally, and that I would have to go in for a D&C (under anesthetic) and would need about a week to recover from that.

As you can imagine, I am shitting my pants at this point.

Two days later, I started having some serious cramps (we're talking writhing on the floor) and then I passed the contents of my uterus. My poor husband had to sit there and watch helplessly. I cannot express in words how amazing and supportive he is.

After four hours it was over. The cramps stopped and I went to sleep. I am still bleeding and might still have to go in for the D&C to prevent infection, but I won't find that out yet. I am trying not to think about it.

As for my comment at the beginning of this entry about feeling distant, it's because the first thing my doctor said to me (after "I'm sorry") was: "This is why people wait to share the news".

I did wait. I waited until I was past my three months, I waited until after I was told that everything appeared to be progressing normally. This is not an unusual situation, but most miscarriages happen before the third month.

I told my friends and family because it is a happy thing to be having a baby. I told people so that they could share in the happiness with me. But because I lost the baby, I am supposed to be ashamed that I told people? Embarrassed that I couldn’t keep my mouth shut until I got a guarantee from God himself that I was going to give birth to a happy and healthy baby? What the hell was I supposed to do? Well, apparently now it was a very bad thing that I told people because they now have to hear the bad news. It’s not the same thing, I know, I’m not naïve. It’s awkward for people to hear your bad news, to hear about your loss.

It is wrong though. It’s wrong that the support and sharing you get from people in happy times is pulled away in bad. I am dealing with this and I am going to be fine. In a month or two I might start trying again. I was told that this can happen and that I will probably have a healthy baby on my next try. The whole thing has been awful, but I have my husband and my family and friends to help me. One of the most disappointing things has also been realizing how our experiences are done alone, that even though we live in neighborhoods full of people, we are totally isolated. The fact that I should feel that I cannot share something wonderful in case it becomes something bad is pretty pathetic. Shit happens; people should be able to be mature and compassionate enough to deal with it. We shouldn’t have to hide our personal tragedies.

No Vacancy

Life just got busier for me in the last couple of months: the puppy, the new job, and yes, the new little person-to-be taking up residence in my womb. I have passed the 3 month mark and am now “out of the woods” as they say as far as any big risk of miscarriage. I have to admit that I am feeling pretty good, aside from some days being ridiculously tired due to the draining of my bodily resources from said little person-to-be. Occasionally, I get a little nausea as my super-human sense of smell tracks down anything giving off the tiniest bit of offensive odor. I am particularly disgusted by our compost bin.

I’m nervous about telling my new employer about the pregnancy. I literally just started this job under a month ago. I had my second interview and was offered the job the same day as I found out about the baby. At that point, I knew that I still had to give my notice at the other place. It was not a healthy environment for me there. Hopefully, I will still have a job to come back to after maternity leave. This place seems pretty decent. We’ll see.

I miss wine and the occasional cigarette, but I have been very good. I’m eating well and continuing to exercise, and I guess this is helping with the pregnancy symptoms. And my husband is very happy, as am I, so things are good. I’m going in for an ultrasound on Friday and they are going to measure the baby and I will get to hear the heartbeat, which is kind of exciting. I’ll blog all about it later. Oh, and I still have to blog about my boobs – check out Teh Mommeh’s bra shopping story-it doesn’t get any more real than that.

Office Mommeh-To-Be