"Self pity is our worst enemy, and if we yield to it, we can never do anything wise in the world."
- Helen Keller1880-1968, Blind and Deaf Educator

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Today is my due date

As I sit here watching the snow flurries drop, I feel like I am in someone else's life. Today is December 20th, 2008, the date that I was supposed to lay eyes on my first baby, entering my world, my baby girl's first day on planet earth.

While I know that chances are slim that babies actually are born on their due date, never in a million years did I think my baby would be born 4 months too soon. 2nd trimester premature rupture of membranes (water break) is extremely rare. They tell you you're clear after the first trimester- statistics regarding loss of any kind past the first 12 weeks is down around the 1-2% mark. I mean what are the odds that I have trouble conceiving AND a second trimester loss? My thoughts on this are now much more black and white- chance of loss is 50%- you either give birth or you end up with a dead baby.

Finding out that I am prone to blood clots and that may have been the cause of the amniotic rupture only sickens me more. Should of, would of, could of. How come no one suggested me seeing a specialist? How come the gene mutation was not tested for at the onset of the uterus blood clot and then easily treated? How in the world did I think going to Puerto Rico was a good idea after being on bed rest for 2 months? How come the doctor allowed me to go? How come I never learned Spanish? Should of, would of, could of. I can drive myself mad if I go down this road.

How did I get to this place? I will be back at the doctor's in Boston tomorrow morning for an ultrasound and blood work. today is cycle day 8. This IUI could be be the start of another life. Or can it be that my first pregnancy, my special Sally Ann, would be my only biological child? I just can't believe it- that my life would go down like that.

I have a strong desire inside to be a mother. I have always had that deep, passionate will to raise a child in this world. Now I need to re-examine what that looks like. What is motherhood? What was the need I had really? Was it to raise a little human and pass the legacy of love, compassion, strength and integrity into the world? Was it to know that my genes and DNA live on past when my body turns to dust? This story line is so much heavier that I expected. What happened to what they told us in school? If you don't use protection it is an accident that you don't get pregnant. I can't believe that bullshit. Come to find out it is actually, in the best of circumstances, a difficult task.

Oh well. I called myself resilient back in August when I started this blog. I don't feel so much today. I am actually more on the weepy side. The anticipation of today, however, was much worse. Today gives me some sort of twisted closure.

Does one ever get over the loss of a child? Of course not, but there is a closing of the circle, as there will be for each milestone that will come between now and July 26th, 2009. Christmas, Passover, Mother's Day, Father's day. The anniversary of my water breaking. Sally Ann's birth and death.

Grant me the serenity to accept this thing I cannot change.


Mrs. Spit said...

You spoke about resilency. Would you listen to someone a bit further down the road?

Resilency doesn't mean that you don't have bad days. It doesn't mean that you don't weep.

Resilency remembers Sally Ann, it remembers how much you loved her, how much you longed to keep her safe. It remembers how much you want a babe of your own and gives you the strength to try again.

Resilency isn't about never weeping, it's about the courage to carry on, even while you are weeping. Resilency could be easily called by it's other name. Courage.

And you, my friend, have that in spades.

Abiding with you.

Cara said...

Mrs. Spit - that is one of the most tear-jerkingly honest comments I've ever read.

And Lisa- I have been thinking of you. Checking my reader everyday - wondering when you would post and what the tone would be like.

Having both rememberance dates just breaks up the year with pain. I, too, sit with you in memory.


m said...

Sitting here with you as well, as I attempt to manage my way through the first set of firsts. Only right now, they feel as if they are coming too hard and too fast - every day feels like an "if only..." day.

I wish I could say something as wise as mrs. spit. But I think I will just listen, and hopefully learn.

Lisa, wishing you well, remembering your Sally Ann...

Reba said...

I feel like my due date with the twins was yesterday, or last week...it was September 23. It felt utterly surreal to bring two "My First Teddy Bears" to their grave that day, instead of giving them to my daughter and son.

In response to another post...I would get a third opinion on IVF if I were you. You said you are near Boston...I live about an hour west of there, and wouldn't mind sharing my doctor/clinic's name with you if you're interested.

And in response to yet another post, I too wore lucky socks to my IUIs. :) For the one that resulted in the twins, I was wearing my "when pigs fly" socks.

Thinking of you and Sally Ann today, on this day that you should have met her.

Natalie said...

I am thinking about you today, this day of remembering Sally Ann.

I wish I knew something more to say. I wish I could say something to make this day even a little bit easier for you, but I know there really isn't. It's a loaded day, so full of memories and dreams and hopes and what should have been. And sometimes the weight of all of that is just too much in one day.

Kim said...

Mrs. Spit's comment says it all and so beautifully. I too, sit with you in memory of your sweet Sally Ann today.

Travelwahine said...

Wow, Mrs. Spit you're post is so beautiful and true.

Lisa, everytime I have days like this I remember that we weep and mourn because our love is so great. Our love for our children is infinite, beyond the borders of this earth.

I hope this is the beginning of a new life, a new life that is now burying into your warm and inviting womb.

I pray for serenity, for today and especially during all of those firsts. I'm sorry Sally Ann isn't here to enjoy her birthday and meet the wonderful Mommy that you are. But, this I'm sure of, she felt all of the love you have for her.

Zil said...

I'm thinking of you, Lisa. Wishing you and Sally Ann peace and love.

Kami said...

Thank you for your comment on my blog. I am touched that you came to visit, but sad to explore who you are and learn that you lost your child.

Yes, how unfair to deal with loss and infertility. And resiliency can feel different on different days. Some days, being resilient means you chose to keep breathing.

My thoughts are with you with this next cycle and on your journey to motherhood.