Well, This is Getting Redundant

So, yeah. That pregnancy I was so excited about in my last post? Turns out, not so much.

If you read this blog, chances are you heard this news on Twitter or Facebook when it happened last week. Because of that I was almost tempted to just skip writing about it. Everybody knows. Let's just move on. And yet, here I am.

I think we're fine. Chris is performing his usual role of making sure I'm taken care of, perhaps in the process ignoring his own pain. We talk about it a little. We're both angry. We're both sad. I'm worried about being able to have another baby. Chris either isn't worried or is pretending not to be for my sake. I try not to dwell on all the energy we put into this pregnancy. All the fear, the worry, the bleeding, the countless trips to the doctor, to urgent care, even the ER. If I think of the time, energy, money, and especially all the hope we put into this pregnancy I start to feel sorry for myself. And I get whiny. And, I suppose it's okay to whine about something like this for a little while, but I need to do what I didn't do last time. I need to move on. I need to heal.

I knew it was careless to try and get pregnant so quickly after the last miscarriage. I knew not giving ourselves time to properly grieve before we were right back where we started would be immeasurably hard. But, I also didn't really think I would have two miscarriages in a row. I arrogantly assumed the miscarriage had been a fluke, and even though I knew it was POSSIBLE to lose this pregnancy, too, I have to admit, I didn't think it was probable.

When I went to urgent care a week ago with some spotting, I hoped the outcome would be the same as all the other trips to a doctor, post-bleeding. It wasn't. She couldn't find a heartbeat, but told me her machine was really sub-standard. It had a low resolution and didn't always pick up the heartbeat. She told me to see my doctor the next day. My doctor wasn't available. But, guess who was! If you guessed "The Really Horrible Doctor from Last Time Who Shouldn't Be Allowed Anywhere Near Pregnant Women" you are correct!

Now, I will say this about him: after careful examination, I don't think he is TRYING to be horrible. I think he's just been doing this way too long and maybe needs some updated sensitivity training. Or to retire. But that doesn't make it any less traumatic when, after trying in vain to locate the heartbeat (and, bless him, he TRIED) he squints hard while looking into the monitor and says, "I don't think this baby is alive!" And then says it about four more times. He also said something to the effect of "Don't shoot the messenger." Many of you will be pleased to know I have decided to file a complaint.

So, what's next? Well, my doctor is ordering a test to be done in a few weeks which will determine whether or not I have a blood-clotting disorder that could be causing miscarriages. My progesterone was on the low side this time, so I'm sure we will be monitoring that the next time I find myself pregnant. Basically, the plan is to work with my doctor this time in planning and achieving a healthy pregnancy when my body has healed, rather than sneaking behind her back and trying to get knocked up in a few weeks.

I don't know if my body not being properly healed from the last miscarriage had anything to do with this one. And, really, it doesn't matter. What matters to me most this time is that I give us all time to heal emotionally. I think my family needs and deserves some time to enjoy our wonderful lives without countless trips to the doctor and a ton of anxiety. we might find ourselves there again someday, but right now I want to play with my daughter without worrying if I missed a phone call from a doctor. I want to have some conversations with my husband that don't begin with him asking me how much I've been spotting lately. I want to go to my sister's wedding next month and dance and drink champagne without silently panicking about my boobs not feeling sore enough or not having enough nausea.

I want to thank everyone for all the support. I know this has been exhausting for those of us living it, but also for those of you who have rejoiced and mourned with us twice now in such a short period of time. I promise not to put you through this again. For a few months, at least...

Coming Around

Today is the first day of one of my many new beginnings. This past month has been difficult. The miscarriage took more of a toll on me than I expected. I think because in my life everything looks good on paper, and because I can't find any tangible thing to complain about, I feel confused when I'm sad. Because intellectually, I'm happy. I have an amazing daughter. A husband so good I couldn't possibly deserve him. Wonderful family and friends. Money is tight, but then again, we can pay the bills, and I know what a big deal that is right now. I should be happy. And, most of the time, I am.

But, then there's the sadness. No matter how much I am enjoying playing with Charlotte or laughing with Chris, there is this sadness permeating my thoughts. It can strike at any time, seemingly out of nowhere. It causes me to react with bitterness and jealousy to situations I would otherwise be celebrating, like, of course, pregnancies, ultrasounds, and births.

I think more than anything else, my inability to see a post about morning sickness or view a picture of a positive pregnancy test without going to a very dark place is most troubling. The first couple weeks, I cut myself some slack. But, now that I am still finding myself terrified to turn on the computer lest I be affronted with more pregnancy news, I am starting to wonder how long this will last. I don't like this side of me. It feels...weak and immature. It made more sense before I had Charlotte, when I didn't know if I would ever be a parent, to react like this. I assumed it would be different this time around.

A few weeks ago I had a follow up appointment with my OB to make sure my body is healing properly from the miscarriage. Seeing the ultrasound machine set up in the exam room, and knowing there wasn't even the slightest bit of hope that I would see that elusive flickering heartbeat on the screen was disheartening, to say the least. But, the hardest part of that day was when I was in my private room waiting for the doctor, and I realized that the muted thumping I was hearing was a fetal heart monitor from another room. A sound that would have faded into the background had I been in that room under different circumstances, was deafening to me now. I couldn't stop hearing it, and I couldn't stop thinking about how we would never hear this baby's heartbeat. This baby was already gone from my body, not a part of me anymore. And, I just couldn't hear it. So, I covered my ears like a petulant child being scolded until I heard the doctor knock on the door.

So, it's been hard. And the sadness has been keeping me from living my life the way I normally do. I've been falling WAY behind on housework, eating too much, drinking too much, practically disappearing from social media (I know, what a tragedy,)and all but abandoning my already-neglected blog.

And that is why today is my new beginning. Maybe I'm starting to feel better, maybe I just realized enough is enough; I don't really know. But, today is the day I have decided will be the beginning of my return to normalcy. I've resolved to update my blog once a week. I would love to do more, but that just doesn't seem possible right now. Especially since I am still hoping to do some other types of writing. Today I will eat my vegetables and flaxseed and leave the cookies in the cupboard. Today I have already cleaned and done laundry, thus starting the process of getting our apartment clean again. Today I am a little better than yesterday and a lot better than I was a month ago.

This isn't the first time I've cut my losses and decided to begin again, and I'm sure it won't be the last. Here's hoping I can make it work.