Shoes

Over and over, I keep thinking of this poem:

"A Pair of Shoes"

I am wearing a pair of shoes.
They are ugly shoes.
Uncomfortable shoes.
I hate my shoes.
Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.
Yet, I continue to wear them.
I get funny looks wearing these shoes.
They are looks of sympathy.
I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.
They never talk about my shoes.
To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.
To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them.
But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.
I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes.
There are many pairs in this world.
Some women are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.
Some have learned how to walk in them so they don't hurt quite as much.
Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt.
No woman deserves to wear these shoes.
Yet, because of these shoes I am a stronger woman.
These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.
They have made me who I am.
I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.


Author Unknown

I've been feeling blue and sorry for myself all day and wishing I could just get rid of these shoes.  Wishing I could just go back to a time of innocence and joy.  Wishing I knew what the future holds...


I just had a nice moment in the backyard.  Had been reading and enjoying the nice weather when I decided I needed to visit my babies.  We have plants that I associate with each of them.  We planted the first one in memory of our first baby, the ectopic pregnancy.  The middle two, I don't remember being planted, but Shannon must have done this.  The last is a lovely hydrangea my mom gave me for Mother's Day this year.  I'd gotten upset a few days before when she'd gone on and on about how this was my sister-in-law's first Mother's Day.  Finally I'd reminded her how difficult it can be for me-- I'm a mother too, but no one notices.  No one acknowledges this for me.  So on Mother's Day, she went out of her way to give me this beautiful plant and said through tears, "Happy Mother's Day.  I'm so sorry your babies are in heaven."  It was very touching and now I can have an outward sign, a way to remember this most recent loss too.

So this evening, I stopped at each plant and talked to each of my babies.  I called them by name, the names only I know and I've never mentioned to anyone else, not even Shannon.  It was a serene moment and I'm feeling better now, a little more at peace with myself.  If only it weren't for these shoes...

Jealous

This afternoon I had to go to the dentist's to get my teeth cleaned.  This is the dentist who did my root canal last month and I had to tell I was pregnant because they had to do an x-ray.  My mom had gone since we lost this last pregnancy and told the dentist and said I didn't want to talk about it.  I've been a couple of times since because my temporary crown keeps breaking/falling off and the dentist has been very nice.  So nice even with not saying anything about the loss, but I can tell he's sorry for us.  Then this afternoon, I met with the dental hygienist who I barely know, but is clearly quite pregnant.

She looks at my chart and exclaims:  "Oh you're pregnant!"

Me:  "No.  (awful pause)  I had a miscarriage."

Her:  "Oh, that's hard."

(silence, me fighting back tears)

Her again:  "Are you okay?"

What am I supposed to say to that?  I want to stand up and scream, "No, I'm not okay!  This was my fourth, yes fourth, loss in less than 3 years!"  And all I can see is her pregnant belly mocking me, making my emptiness all the more evident.  I hate feeling like this.  I want to be able to be happy for other people, but all can feel is jealousy right now.  It took all I had not to completely break down in a puddle of tears right there in that dentist's chair.

A woman I work with is pregnant and just started telling people/showing right before I had my miscarriage.  I only have to see her once a week, but even that is painful for me.  And another co-worker brought in pictures of her newborn grandson to our weekly meeting Monday and everyone had to ooh and aah over them.  She talked about how the mother had several losses and went through lots of testing, then in-vitro, etc. to have him & that made me feel a little better, but still jealous.  Isn't that awful??  That I can only be a little happy for someone when they've had a heart-wrenching experience of loss like me?

Recently Shannon wanted us to go over to our friends' house who are pregnant and due 10 days after our pregnancy #3 would have been.  I've seen her several times since that loss and even seen her clearly showing, but just can't bring myself to be around her now after this loss.  Shannon said he thinks I dwell on this too much.  Maybe that's partly true, but it's also how I deal with loss, how I grieve.  He completely does not get this.  He even asked me the other day what would I do if I had a client that was in a similar position as I am.  He assumed I would tell them to get over it and move on.  I actually had to explain the grieving process to him and tell him how I need to feel these feelings now or they'll come roaring back later, so much worse.  I know men grieve differently, but sometimes it's amazing how different our experiences are in the same situation.

Science

I had been thinking about writing a serious post all day, but was just struck with the humor of the situation tonight.  Shannon and I were just watching a show on the science channel called "The Science of Sex Appeal" and it was explaining how all these things change in a woman's body when she is ovulating.  She will look and sound more attractive, be able to pick better sexual partners, etc.  We were talking about it and I realized Shannon has no idea about how a woman's menstrual cycle works.  He had no clue that I get my period 2 weeks after I ovulate.  No clue.  Oh my goodness.  We've been trying to get pregnant for nearly 3 years now and he has no idea of the timing of it all.  Crazy.  He said it doesn't matter to him, worrying about it makes it less fun, less likely that we'll even get pregnant.  He said I should stop worrying about it and we'd automatically get pregnant easier.  I'm both appalled and envious of his attitude.  Personally, as nice as it sounds, it would be impossible for me to go back to my naivety from before we were ttc.  I could not just ignore all the signs I'm aware of now.  I could never not know when I should be ovulating, when I should be getting my period.  Just wouldn't happen.  Anyway, I think it's a good thing being in touch with my body.  So there you have it.  Further evidence of the difference between men and women.  And what a man I have  :)

Healing

I'm feeling a little better tonight.  This loss has hit me much harder than I expected it to.  It's funny how after so many losses that I can almost compare the intensity, the affect each one had.  The first was without a doubt the most difficult.  I was completely debilitated after that one and could not re-adjust to my new normal for a very long time.  The second was hard too, but not as hard as the first.  The third was relatively easy (if there is such a thing as easy when dealing with pregnancy loss)-- maybe because I was only 6.5 weeks, maybe because we never actually saw anything on an ultrasound and hadn't started to hope as much.  It seemed like it was getting easier as time went by, like I was somehow figuring out how to cope.  But this one has really thrown me for a loop.  If I had to compare it, this loss has been about as difficult as the second one was.  There are several other similarities in this pregnancy as that one too.  We had started to really get our hopes up as we'd seen the baby & even the heartbeat with both of them.  I was about 7.5 weeks when each of those babies died.  I'd been to a wedding, then volunteered at our children's grief camp at around the same time in each of those pregnancies.  It's been difficult being around other people again this time around.  Selfishly, I just want to hole myself up at home, but I know that's not the answer in the long run.  It has been good to do that most of the week & weekend though.  But it's officially back to the real world tomorrow, back to my regular routine at work, etc.

I feel like I'm starting to heal.  I've finally stopped bleeding for the most part.  My bruises from the Heparin shots are fading.  Almost every outward sign and symptom of this pregnancy is gone.  And that feels both good and bad.  Good that my body is doing what it should to heal itself.  But sad to realize it's really over.

I'm far from ready to want to try to get pregnant again.  I'm sure we will go down that road, but for now, I'm glad to be taking a break.  Let's think of all the things I can do without a care now that I'm not pregnant:  Drink as many Cokes as I want.  Enjoy a strawberry margarita (although I still haven't drank at all since before this pregnancy.)  Take my heartburn medicine, or any other little medicine I would worry about affecting a baby.  Take a really hot bath.  Eat whatever I want (which I've certainly done this week to comfort myself, but need to curb to get myself back into better shape.)

As part of my healing, I've decided to look in to the idea of adoption.  I'm still not sure if this is the right road for us, but I'm ready to learn more and explore this as an option.  I contacted someone in my community who has adopted herself and who runs a non-profit adoption ministry.  She wrote me back immediately and hopefully we'll be meeting with her soon.  For now, it just feels good to think about that and to imagine that one day, somehow or another, we will be parents and actually have a child (or hopefully children) of our own in this very house.  Just ready for that someday to be here already...

Struggling

Really struggling

Struggling to make sense of it all

Struggling just to sit here in this office

Struggling not to cry

Struggling to imagine how I can move on

Not sure where to turn

Wish I could just crawl in a hole and disappear for awhile

Uncomfortable in my own skin

Extra-defensive

Lost

Really struggling today

Bitter/sweet

I keep thinking about how life is full of moments.  Moments bitter and sweet.  And it seems like when you've been through something traumatic like a loss, these moments just seem to get magnified and polarized more than usual.  My life has been full of moments this past week.  Some just floated by unnoticed, but many continue to spring to mind-- those bitter and sweet times that will define this week, this loss.

First, the bitter:  As I wrote before, most of the weekend at the beach with my family was fun and good for me.  But one moment in particular keeps coming back and bothering me.  I was already feeling cranky and hungry when I went in the house to make myself a sandwich.  Little did I know I would be walking in to my step-sister and sister-in-law swapping birth/labor stories in the kitchen.  It was a completely normal conversation for them to be having since they both had their first babies in the past year, but it felt like a slap in the face to me.  I felt like I was going to have a panic attack if I didn't get out of there.  I made my sandwich as quickly as I could, took it out on the front porch and ate by myself, crying and thinking how I won't have a birth/labor story for this baby, or maybe ever.  It stings even now when I'm thinking about it.

The next bitter moment happened when we went to my ob-gyn for my pre-D&C appointment on Monday.  I was really feeling okay-- resigned to what happened, even strong and ready to be there.  They called us back and put us in a room in the back to wait.  Then we could hear next door they were examining a very pregnant woman and had the Doppler measuring the baby's heartbeat.  All we could hear for several minutes was the beating of that baby's heart and it was such a stark reminder of why we were there-- our baby had no heartbeat and was already gone.  We tried humming, talking loudly, opening the door to distract ourselves, but finally Shannon went up to the front desk & told them we could not stand to wait in that room anymore.  They let us go back to the waiting room until the doctor was ready for us.  By then, I was already pretty shaken.  And of course, the waiting room was full of pregnant women, then a woman came in with a sweet newborn baby.  A little girl sitting near us turned to her father and said, "I wish we could have a baby at our house."  I wanted to stand up and scream ME TOO!!

Everywhere I turn, it feels like everyone else in the world is getting pregnant and having their perfect babies without any trouble at all.  I really think I need to take a break from Facebook after this loss.  It's bothered me some before, but this time feels especially painful as I see the pregnancy announcements & updates about births and sweet, healthy, growing babies.  It all just stings too much...

But in the midst of this sea of pain and bitterness, every once in awhile, the sweet floats up too.  I've gotten lots of e-mails, texts, phone calls from friends and family both near and far sending their thoughts and love.  Pregnancy loss always seems to be the most isolating experience for me, but it has been nice that those that knew about the pregnancy and now know about the loss have been there for us, even if it has been from afar.  One of my best friends stopped by unexpectedly this week, just to check in and to give me flowers and a card.  That is the first time someone has actually given me flowers after a pregnancy loss.  Others talked about it, but no one actually sent them.  It meant so much to me that she took the time and effort to let me know she was thinking of me.

My biggest source of sweetness this week has, without a doubt, been my husband.  I could never have gotten through this without him.  Just having him there at the doctor's office when we first found out, seeing the sadness in his eyes and him holding me while I cried was the most comforting thing I could have ever even hoped for in that moment.  The fact that he took me to Whataburger for a burger and a Coke (my ultimate comfort food) at 8:30 in the morning after our appointment.  The fact that he asked for us to be moved out of that room where all we could hear was the other baby's heartbeat.  The way he checked in on me all weekend at the beach to see how I was holding up.  In fact, he just checked on me now to make sure I'm doing okay still.

The sweetest moment that stands out the most for me is Sunday night, when I had the actual miscarriage.  I don't know how I would have made it through that experience without Shannon.  He held me, comforted me, got me a warm rag that smelled like lavender to soothe me.  He insisted on going to the bathroom with me when I knew I was going to pass the baby.  He helped me get up and walk around when lying in the bed in pain was too much.  He got me my pain pills.  He got me a Sprite and crackers when I was feeling nauseous and even let me eat them in bed while watching TV in the middle of the night, when all he really wanted to do was go to sleep.  He got pillows to prop me up and a heating pad to help with the cramping.  He was there for me in every way imaginable and that means more to me than I can ever express.

So now, as I prepare to go back to work tomorrow, I'm going to try to hold on to those sweet moments and let the bitter ones fade away.  I'm going to try to take care of myself.  I keep thinking of the lines of a She & Him song I've been listening to a lot lately:

"Well I heard you had the blues again
It seems like all those little things add up in the end
Well I know that you worry a lot about
Things you can't control
There are so many things we'd like to have
But we just cannot hold

You've got to be kind to yourself
You've got to be kind to yourself"

I'm going to try my best to be kind to myself...

Another Loss

I've thought so many times about how to begin this and there's no easy or right way.  We lost the baby.  We went in for the ultrasound on Friday and almost immediately, I knew.  I could see the baby in the sac and could clearly see there was no longer a heartbeat.  The doctor looked and looked from many angles, but there was no denying it.  It was gone.  She patted me gently on the leg and I spoke first.  "There's no heartbeat."  She said she was sorry and they would give us a minute.  Then Shannon was holding me as we cried, the reality of the situation already starting to set in.  It had happened again.  Our fourth pregnancy loss...

We've had a beach vacation with my family planned for months, so we decided to go ahead and go to the beach with everyone for the weekend.  We scheduled a D&C for Tuesday morning with my regular ob-gyn and planned to come home Sunday to get ready for the pre-op appointment Monday.  The beach was good overall.  Good to get away, relax, spend time with family.  I was able to escape and forget for moments at a time what we were going through.

But then, other times, it was right there, screaming in my face.  I am now the only one of my siblings without children.  This vacation was the first time for all of us to get together with everyone and their kids.  And it felt blaringly obvious what was missing.  Don't get me wrong-- I'm happy for all of them and love my nieces and nephews, but sometimes during the weekend it was just too much.

We were glad to get home Sunday.  I'd had a little light brown bleeding and light cramping over the weekend, but it started to increase on our drive back home.  By the time we got home I was full-on bleeding and starting to hurt quite a bit.  I took a hot bath, took a Darvocet left over from another miscarriage and went to bed.  I woke up a few hours later and was in so much pain.  Never felt anything like it before.  Like cramps only so much worse.  And it had only been 3 hours since I'd taken the pain pill.  The cramps were coming in waves and I realized this must be me in labor, getting ready to pass this baby.  I was completely freaked out, but somehow, with Shannon there to support me, made it through the night.

We went to my regular ob-gyn on Monday afternoon.  He started talking about the D&C and I told him I thought there was a chance I might have already had the miscarriage.  He did an ultrasound and we couldn't see anything like what we'd seen only 3 days before, so we cancelled the D&C and went home.  I was relieved to know the worst was over, at least physically.  I didn't know if I could handle another night like the one before.

I've been off work all week because I'm supposed to be on vacation at the beach.  I'm not sure how I'm feeling.  Depends on the moment.  Sometimes strong and determined.  Often lost and questioning.  A little weapy.  I may or may not go back to work tomorrow, can't decide.  I feel like I can't make any good decisions right now.  Lately when we've been driving or watching TV, Shannon will point out some little detail and I'm surprised because I've completely missed it.  Like I'm travelling through a fog and can't see what's right in front of me.  Not sure where to turn next...