This time last year

It was at about this time last year when I finally accepted that my pregnancy was doomed and agreed to induce labor on poor Sally Ann. While I was in labor for 18 hours, making my due date tomorrow, this moment of resignation was the lowest point in my life to date. I so wanted to ignore the doctors and perinatologists. Maybe they were wrong. Why couldn't I have the miracle? Why was this happening to my baby?

Due to the risk to my life and future ability to conceive and carry a child, we ended this little beauty's life. With no amniotic fluid, I was told, even if she made it to 24 weeks, she would endure a painful death from premature lungs. She never had a chance.

My hubby and I worked on Sally Ann's memorial garden today. I'll show and tell tomorrow. We added a memorial stone and some special rocks and shells I've collected from all over the world. I am contemplating spreading her ashes tomorrow, but I am not sure I am ready to part with them. maybe I can put just a few ashes there? Is that weird?

I can't believe it's been a year. I love you sweet baby. I'll never forget you and the love you brought to my life.

Falling to pieces and then remembering I can have it all

The first part of the day sucked. I went for a second opinion from a perinatologist so that I'll be all set when I get prego. What I didn't realize is that I had been to that office before- for my first trimester screening with Sally Ann. I handled that realization pretty well, even with a waiting room full of pregnant women.

They took me in immediately and asked when my due date was. I handled it well. Then the nurse kept making things worse- "oh I am so sorry I said anything, blah, blah, blah." "Do you usually have high blood pressure?"

Ok- I lost it. By the time the doctor got there, I was a bumbling fool. He was patient and understanding. We went over the autopsy results, the placenta pathology report and my prothrombin factor II mutation in a lot of detail- more so that ever before. We have a plan in place that I feel good about. I will continue on the Lovenox, and we'll add progesterone shots at week 16. This is said to help extend the term of babies in mothers who had previous premature losses.

He said there was never anything I could have done to save Sally Ann. By the time the clot occurred in week 9, taking Lovenox at that point would not have saved the pregnancy. The water breaking was still just a fluke, and is very rare. It was probably due to the bleeding. The bleeding was likely due to the clot. But the clot- may or may not be as a result of the thrombin factor 2 mutation. Just a lot of unknowns and I need to just accept that.

He doesn't suggest I try to have twins, only because he hates for me to add any additional stress to the situation. After all that has happened, I really want twins. Not sure what to do with this information. I guess I don't have to make any decisions today. What are YOUR thoughts? I mean I will be on Lovenox this time and that is supposed to address my issue. So what further issue is there if that is being addressed?

When I got home, I immediately went to my blog reader where EVERYTHING changed. Today is a day of great news. From positive betas, to healthy linings and good follicle counts, to twins on the u/s, to several healthy births, today is a day to celebrate. I feel so happy for all my bloggy chick friends. And I know that my time is coming. It may be hard for me today but I know that it can happen to me too. I can have my heart's desire. My dream can come true now. I need to keep believing that this is my time.

Jizo

Here is a picture of my memorial garden for Sally Ann.
Jizo statue to protect the souls of departed babies (Lola, my dog, in the background)



Another view of the garden with Boo (kitty). Japenese Maple, shells I collected, Lilies and ornamental grass.



Sally Ann was born and died on July 26th, 2008.

Healing Ritual

I went to a memorial service today. It was for two beautiful twins, Matthew and Ashley, who died too soon, at 5 months in utero. I met the mother and father soon after Sally Ann died, at a baby loss group. Even then, though obviously distraught, the dead baby mama had a composure about her that I envied. I never did learn that composure and, even today, when I talk about Sally Ann, it is with tear-filled eyes and a bit of stuttering.

It has been a year since the twins died and, in a grand cathedral mass, we joined together to honor lives cut short- lives that had little living, but had no shortage of love during their lifetimes. We were there for a formal memorial to validate that yes- these children lived and breathed just like as you and I do, even if it were for only a moment.

I watched in awe at the rituals that the priest performed. This is alien territory for me, being somewhat of a heathen myself. But it made my think about how this ritual, this rite of passage, this formal ceremony was creating healing. I looked at this dead baby mama and, for the first time, saw tears streaming down her face. She let go and publicly grieved the loss of her hopes and dreams. She was vulnerable. There was healing that was occurring right in front of my eyes.

I wondered as I cried- because I always cry- if there is something equally as special and fitting of the anniversary of my Sally Ann's birth/death. Although I am extremely outgoing and social by nature, I am also surprisingly a private person- so my ritual would be something different. What would help me to heal? It won't be about closure, because that will never happen. I can never feel complete about what happened. Don't tell me it was God's will. Don't tell me that things happen for a reason.

I'd like to put it out there to other dead baby mamas and friends of ours- what kind of rituals did you do or would you suggest for me to honor the legacy of love that Sally Ann gave to me? How might I memorialize and give back to the universe the lifetime of love that she and I shared for all too short a time.

I miss you Sally Ann.

Getting over Mother's Day

It has taken about this long to decide where to go from here. Mother's day was surreal this year. The first mother's day without my baby- last year I was pregnant on this day, which distracted me from the fact that it was the first mother's day without my mother. But what do you do on a very special day, as a motherless child and as a mother without her child?

I kept myself busy, wishing well to those on my husband's side of the family. We took his mom out to brunch and did the gift thing. It wasn't until a stranger smiled at me and said happy mother's day that I realized how sad I still am. I have gotten very good at keeping the tears stuffed inside so I just smiled back.

What do you say to a mother who has lost her baby? I think for most people, they don't consider me a mother. There was no tangible thing for them to see, to hold, and to remember. But there is for me. I went through 18 hours of labor. I held my baby who died in childbirth. I will always remember. I will always mourn my precious Sally Ann.
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On a separate note, I received a wonderful card the other day. I wrote my previous post that I committed a random act of kindness- I had donated my extra fertility meds to a stranger that was unable to afford IVF because her insurance did not cover it and the cost is about 5K. I hadn't thought I would need it since I was moving on to donor egg- so I showed up on her doorstep with the possible help to have a child. The moment was profound. It was an end of my dream and the beginning of hers. Well, she wrote me to say she was pregnant and she thanked me for the gift I was able to give.

I was so happy for her and I pray that hers is an easy, uneventful pregnancy.

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I have so much more to report on, but I suddenly am teary-eyed. I write this blog to share my feelings and experiences, to get it out rather than keeping it bottled up. I also hope that my words help someone else that may feel the same.

I haven't written recently because I wondered if writing was keeping me stuck in this place of grief. On the contrary, I realize it is great, healing therapy. I feel worse, more sad, more grief stricken, when I do not write. So I will keep writing, more often than once per month. If you see that I haven't written in while, please reach out to check in. Please don't let me hide out.

It's Raining Blood

Well, I'm not pregnant. Not only that. I was bleeding so bad, I bled through my pants at work- think sieve. As you may be thinking- the implantation bleeding
was not. Or maybe it was, and it was another miscarriage. I'll know soon enough.

I am in Philly on business and needed to arrange to go to a different hospital for day 3 work up. My meds are being overnighted to me here. "Don't you want to just take off a month?" says the nurse from my hospital in Boston. "About as much as I want to cut off my arm and have you eat it."

My saving grace was definitely the coordinator at U Penn who helped me get this thing going. I called them in a panic- should I take a 1K plane to Boston? Should I fly into RI and drive the hour? What do I do????????????? Can you help me???????

"Take a deep breath," she said. "Take a calm, deep breath. We can help you here. We can even give you a patient discount if your health insurance won't cover it here."

I love her. She made me feel so much better. It's people like her- and like all of you- that help keep me sane. She even followed up to check in on me later. I think when this is all over with, I want to be someone who works in the office who can help others like me, who become lunatics with grief and stress and frustration. I want to be the one who says, "I am here for you, whatever you need."

Christmas and Beyond

Well the day came and went fairly uneventfully. Rather than spending it with our families, we decided to spend the time, just the two of us, quietly at home. No tree. No presents. I barely even opened all the holiday cards yet.

At the last minute (the night before), our neighbors invited us over for their special luncheon. They had way too much food and needed help. We obliged. it was actually really nice being with people who are pretty much removed from the whole situation. I actually enjoyed myself and we got to leave when we were ready to go.

I suspect that the anti-depressants have begun to kick in by now. I am feeling fairly ambivalent rather than feeling like I am on the hope and despair roller coaster. I guess that's good.

I have been thinking a lot about Sally Ann lately though. Not so much thinking about her, but remembering back to holding her. I remember how small and fragile she was, her tiny body bruised by the mere act of a natural child birth. I never took any pictures. I really regret that. I spent some time complaining about that with my husband the other day. How come the nurse never suggested I take pictures? After I finished bitching, my husband informed me that they did offer and that I declined. I have no recall of this. Maybe I was in shock or maybe repulsed by the idea of memorializing such a traumatic experience. In any case, that ship has left the port.

My IUI was uneventful. I have been resting ever since and plan to continue that protocol for the next couple of days. I am a very superstitious person and so, of course, I am looking for signs all over the place (see Tertia's blog "so close" to understand fully what I am talking about). The curse of "what's meant to be." Is it fate I lost Sally Ann (how ridiculous is that?)? If I heard my favorite sound on another woman's blog and she used donated eggs, maybe it is a sign that I should choose that path. I wonder, I wonder. What is my next step on this road? I hope that, as I come around the bend, I'll find out my pain and wait is over.

Maybe I should have a blood mary and take a nap instead.

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.

What would life be like without a plan B?

I went to my doctor yesterday to check in and talk about my progress over the past couple of months. I may be pregnant and will know in about a week and a half, but it is always good to talk about plan B. What will happen if I am not?

"There is NO plan B."

"Excuse me?"

Given my response to the FSH IUI's, even in the one that got me pregnant last March, I am not a candidate for in vitro. Each time, I started out strong but at the time of ovulation, I have one or two mature follicles. Given that not all follicles survive the retrieval and petri dish process, she wouldn't want to take any chances with the one to two good ones I had each cycle. Therefore, IUI is all I can do a this point.

I was kind of at a loss for words- flabbergasted. I didn't expect that response and the only thing that came to mind was "oh shit." The expected tears came shortly thereafter.

Dr I.S. recommends that I go through 6 IUI cycles total, if I can emotionally handle it, and then we can decide if it is time to find another approach, depending on my responses to those cycles.

I have been pretty depressed in the last 24 hours. Not really what I wanted to hear. And while I recognize that I may very well be prego now, I need to re-evaluate what I really, truly want in my life. G-d what a fucking mind trip roller coaster ride. Happy Holidays!

Which brings me to the question of the day:

Would a child by an egg donor be any less special to me?

I was caressing my dog Lola yesterday morning and her eyes were gazing up to mine. My heart cracks wide open for my loving, little mutt. If I feel this much love for a dog, imagine how much I would feel for a baby I carried in my belly for 9 months, breast fed and raised?

So I guess what I am asking your opinion on is, should I wait the 6 months and then decide on this or should I just say fuck it and do it now? The doctor all but guarantees me a baby with this method. My uterus is beautiful and she isn't concerned at all with my carrying the baby to term.

I really want to mother a child. Of course I want a genetic mix of hubby and myself. It is just that life is so short and I have spent quite a bit of it being sad. I just don't know how much more I should risk.

I welcome your candid thoughts on this controversial subject.

Part 2 to the bad day

For all those that commented about my cruel step mom, I appreciated your kind words. Part 2 goes like this- I decide to call my dad on Wednesday to let him know I wasn't pregnant. About 15 seconds into the call, right after I told him the news, he ripped right into me, letting me know how fat I looked when he saw me and that every time he sees me I get fatter and fatter. When I told hm the doctor told me to just hold off on weight loss right now because he doesn't want my hormones to get out of wack, my dad tells me I am lying. I am lying? He says either I am lying or my doctor is a quack and I should find another doctor.

I can't believe how supportive and loving my family is.

I told my dad I will lose weight once the baby comes. He tells me he hardly believes that one and I should just put off getting pregnant until I lose the weight. Then he compares me to step sisters- they have stressful lives- how come they didn't gain weight?

I don't think I have ever felt as alone in this world as I do right now. I need to talk to my doctor about anti-depressants. I feel like jumping off a bridge about now-except for the fact that I want a baby so bad- if that longing and hope wasn't there, I am pretty sure I would need to be committed.

Bereaved Parents' Wish List

My new friend Michelle found this on line- I thought it was appropriate to post

Bereaved Parents' Wish List
I wish my child hadn't died. I wish I had her back. I wish you wouldn't expect me "not to think about it" or "be happy". Neither will happen for a very long time, so don't frustrate yourself. I don't wan't to have a "Pity party", but I do wish you would let me grieve. I must hurt before I can heal. I wish you understood how my life has shattered. I know it is miserable for you to be around me when I'm feeling miserable. Please be as patient with me as I am with you. When I say, "I'm doing okay", I wish you could understand that I don't "feel" okay and that I struggle daily. I wish you knew that all of the grief reactions I'm having are very normal. Depression, anger, hopelessness and overwhelming sadness are all to be expected. So please excuse me when I'm quiet and withdrawn or irritable and cranky. Your advice to "take one day at a time" is excellent advice. However, a day is too much and too fast for me right now. I wish you could understand that I'm doing good to handle an hour at a time. Please excuse me if I seem rude, it is certainly not my intent. Sometimes the world around me goes too fast and I need to get off. When I walk away, I wish you would let me find a quiet place to spend time alone. I wish you understood that grief changes people. When my child died, a big part of me died with her. I am not the same person I was before my child died and I will never be that person again. I wish very much that you could understand~understand my loss and my grief. But, I pray daily that you will never understand.

Anticipation turns to freaking out

Ok- now I am freking out. I am still spotting- not very much at all but it is still there. It was a pink couple drops on Saturday a few brownish drops today. It seems too early to be my period. I am not actually due for it until this coming Saturday so the spotting began on day 21. I was cramping on Saturday too and a bit yesterday. Today it seems to have stopped.

I can't stand how this feels. I am making myself crazy and my husband thinks I am losing my mind. I may take a pregnancy test cause I am wond up so tight I may explode.

What else can I take?

What more can I handle? It feels like the fertility clinic really doesn't even want to do this damn IUI. They make a hard, emotional journey even more frustrating and painful than it is already!

First, they screw up my husband's blood test. He drives all the way to Boston for a freakin' HIV test (standard practice prior to fertility treatment) and they forget to have him sign a waiver. He had to get retested and then waits in the lab for 2 hours for the nurse to fax the orders in. Then- the lab faxes the results and the fertility clinic tells us they never received it, even though the fax was "successfully sent." Resend? I wish it was that easy. In the state of Mass, you can't just resend an HIV test- I guess it is against the law or something. Anyway, that is taken care of now, after much crying and begging.

This whole thing and they still haven't received the consult info from the perinatologist giving the go ahead for the IUI. I am running out of time for them to request insurance approval. The one saving grace is that I lied as to when my day one might be- it gives me an extra 3-4 days cushion- cause I knew this kind of shit would happen.

So I call my perinatologist. Is nothing easy? It seems I have a genetic mutation- Prothrombin Factor II mutation. What does that mean? I'll share more of what I know know later but, for now, it means my next pregnancy will require more steps to follow, more risks to take. For now, this insurance request can move forward. Everything is complete. Or is it?

Where the fuck are my pap results? I can't believe I am still waiting on this. And- of course there is more. I have to get in writing that I spoke with my doctor about this prothrombin deal? He submitted the diagnosis and treatment info in writing as requested. He spoke with the reproductive endocrinologist, assuring her he would share the info with me. I told them I got the info...and now they want another letter in writing before they submit for insurance? Now they're just fucking with me. I feel it's all a big joke and the joke is on me.

New day, new meaning

For those of you who made a comment to my blog from last night, I have one piece of good news. What I didn't mention yesterday was that I also had to make a perinatal appointment before I could even go back to my fertility doctor and that appointment was also way way in the future- two doctors making me wait. This morning, my OB office had found a sooner appointment for me for a perinatalogist (a completely different practice)- they obviously "got it" when I spoke to them. I am not going to worry about the fertility appointment until I get to day one and my tests are complete. Once I am all ready to go back to her, my appointment will become available- I just know it. No amount of worrying now will make it better.

I learnined something really profound tonight. I attended a SHARE group meeting which, for those of you who may not know, is a group that helps couples with fetal and baby loss at any stage. Tonight the meeting was packed. We did get on a roll of complaining for a while- we can all share the stories of stupid, insensitive people, or medical professionals that let us down, etc. But then the topic of conversation focused on how several people felt that they had somehow let others down with the loss of their baby- like we all felt as though we had to apologize for what happened.

In an instant, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I have been carrying around guilt and despair that I had somehow let Sally Ann down. How terrible I felt that I did this to her- that I took her life away. How she must be so disappointed in me for inducing labor and giving up on her. Bad Lisa. How could you do that to your poor little baby girl?

A wave of pain came over me. I cried all the way home. Here is yet another layer of the onion, peeled back. Here I am, heart cracked open. It hurts, and somehow I know that it is exactly where my journey needs to go- that I need healing around this.

For those who will tell me it is not my fault, know that I can and do see the logical side of the discussion. Tonight, however, my heart needs to feel the irrational in an effort to move forward towards a new understanding. This is where I am. This is who I am. This is my life and my journey. I wonder where it might lead. The path is certainly dark tonight.

We don't have to take it anymore!

My doctor's appointment went very well- or actually just as I had expected. I will need to redo a bunch of tests, timed on different days, and so we decided (she decided) that I will not begin my next cycle until next month. No surprise here.

The frustrating part is that, when I went to make an appointment to regroup with her after all the tests (why do I even need that meeting? We will be redoing the protocol we did last time), she has nothing open for 6 weeks. So they expect me to wait another month because she can't fit me in to regroup? You have got to be joking! I called everyone and their mother at the clinic, pratically begging for something sooner. I absolutely will not wait. That is the stuff that just makes me blow my top!

They tried to calm me down by telling me that there are always cancellations and that I am on the list for one of those. Ok, for now, but if I have to come in there on my own and demand to see her, I will.

I guess what I have learned is that I don't have to be the good little girl and do what I am told. This is my body, my fertility, my family. I will do whatever I need to in order to create my family.

I can't believe how much I miss someone I never really knew. I move along each day feeling like, Yes- I am going to make it. Then, in an instant, I feel like I don't even know if I can.

Breathe in, breathe out. Each day brings me closer to the family of my dreams. I can't wait to share the good story of Sally Ann with my children. I will share the gift she gave to me in her short existence here on earth. Maybe we will all sit down by her tree some day and this pain I have will have found some meaning.

Do all good things come to an end?

I had made a dried flower arrangement as a memorial to Sally Ann. I used a cool square vase that was given to me and added some of the flowers from the many bouquets I received. It was beautiful and so sentimental. As the flowers sat, they would sink down into vase a bit more each day, so I would add more on top from a plate of ones I kept. The vase sits next to Sally's urn, an angel sculpture that was sent to me and some cards that really "moved" me.

I came home last night to discover that the arrangement had molded. The beautiful colors had faded to a fuzzy grey-brown. Oh well- there is nothing I can do now. I dumped them in the garbage and left the smelly vase next to the pile of dishes I need to get to at some point. A clean sink doesn't seem to have the same allure and importance as it once did.

I am optimistic about my doctor's appointment tomorrow. I am going to try to convince her to let me start next month rather than waiting. I know she has her agenda- and I have mine. In any case, I have always believed that all good things come to those who ask.

A Penny For Your Thoughts

They say I wear my heart on my sleeve. I also wear my daughter around my neck. Call me morbid. It is somehow very comforting that I can keep her ashes safe. I feel closer to her. Damn it- that's all I got. Chris at the funeral home gave me the locket for free when he did the cremation. The whole thing was free actually. The locket is silver and gold and in the shape of a heart. On the back, it is engraved with Sally Ann's name and birthdate. I am always pleasantly surprised by the generosity of others. The world is a good place- at least more good than bad.

A week ago, I reached down to find the locket missing from my neck- it turns out it is a screw top and I guess I was fiddling with it so much, I screwed the darn thing off. I went into a tailspin. How could I have lost my daughter TWICE? I finally found her in my closet. The locket was on its side, some of the ashes had fallen out and lay next to the locket. Boy did I feel like a terrible mom as I tried to place the ashes back in with my fingers. Sally is back on my neck now and I won't do that again!

Thoughts keep coming up, swirling around in my mind. I still have tons of doctors calls, appointments, medical records sent here and there. It feels like insult to injury- I can't just move forward. I keep having to re-hash, follow up, discuss next steps. I thought my next steps would be a crib and a car seat.

I hope my next pregnancy is smooth and easy. Breathe in, breathe out. Some questions have no answers. Just keep on keeping on...

"Every time I think I'm out, they pull me back in"

Imagine if you will, an anguish so fierce, you can feel it from 10 feet away. There is quite an awesome amount of uncontrolled power in a grieving woman who has lost a child. It is almost akin to a wild animal.

Picture ear-piercing shrieks, breaking down in tears repeatedly, even threatening to quit: that was my day at work.

I started off on the wrong foot when my therapist had to cancel. I was, at first, ok with the missed appointment. As the feelings began to quickly overwhelm me, I should have focused my rage and blame on her- that could have been a healthy exercise. Instead, I chose to direct it to those I came into contact first: my boss, an employee, and a couple co-workers. I then found out that my reproductive endocrinologist will need me to wait another month, until October, to begin again. I will need to have some tests done prior to restarting fertility treatment and they want me to wait a month before doing this. I had my heart set on next month. It was like my happy red balloon was busted- here I am again with no control over my own life.

My husband called at a good stopping point in my rage to let me know he may need to take a leave of absence to get through this. Oh yeah- now I remember we are supposedly in this together. I keep forgetting and thinking it is all about me. At least that's what it feels like. How can he seem so calm and feel so bad?

I have come to realize tonight that the healing process is not a stepwise progression as I had thought it might be- and counted on to be. I imagined each day I would be slowly plugging away, taking one step in front of the other, feeling a little bit better and a little bit better. Then one day in the not too distant future I would be talking about how far I have come.

Rather than that, the process seems to be much more of a spiral. To be sure, there will be times when the hurt is less, when I actually feel happy (or at least calm). And then there be a point when I will circle back to a place of pain and trauma. The spiral, however, doesn't mean I am back at square one. I see it more like a tornado or a coil: I spiral back, but I now find myself in a new place, a slightly changed woman from the last time I was immersed in the grief.

I am grateful for the little things- like that the day is coming to a close. The anti-anxiety pills come in handy on a night like tonight. It may be a band aid, but it sure works in a pinch.

Cycles of Life

I got my period today. At first I was scared. I never fully stopped bleeding since the day I gave birth. The last couple weeks were mere spotting though. I figured I wouldn't get it for a while, but when I called the doctor frantically, she said that it usually comes 4-6 weeks after delivery. It's been 4 weeks, 1 day, 2 hours, but who's counting.

I suddenly feel hopeful. I was told that I should have two periods before I begin trying again. This is number 1. If all goes my way (which I cannot say it has been lately), I have 28 days to go. I will hope that my mom and Sally Ann are pulling for me on the other side- maybe they have some influence that can help me get knocked up again- and quick!

It is funny- thoughts like this make me question life and the universe. A woman who had gone through a similar experience wrote "together, let's figure out a way to have this bring purpose and meaning to your life." It was the same words told to her when she was in my shoes.

This bringing purpose and meaning to my life?

How can I? At this point When I think about what happened, all I feel is despair- where is the meaning? I am definitely not there yet, but at least I didn't find those words offensive. I think I am on the right road...

Hangover Saturday

Didn't quite feel like myself this morning. Must be the result of the grey goose Friday. My baby dog Lola nudged me a little too early than I wanted to move. Ugh! I found myself off balance and sore as I moved around the house. Nothing a day at the spa couldn't fix.

I had made wax and massage appointments months ago and it couldn't have come at a better time. No fun that my pregnancy massage was changed to a "normal" one, but my massage therapist is top notch and the good part is that I can go for 80 minutes now.

I somehow was able to find the humor in my ignorant waxer's attempt to make me feel better after the "what's new" question was answered in an unexpected fashion. I should have said "nothing" but I was concerned that she might remember that I had been pregnant and ask about it. Now I realize she probably wouldn't have.

Let me see, what was my favorite comment that she made? It was like a parade of all the stupid, insensitive one-liners wrapped up into a one hour session- and I couldn't go anywhere, I was naked from the waist down and only half waxed at the time. For those of you who don't know, please study this and do not use any of these lines in an effort to make me feel better:

--"Well at least you were not farther along or it would have been harder- you could have been more attached." Loss at any time is great. How could I have been any more attached than I was? Sally Ann and the future I dreamed of, snatched in a moment for unexplained reasons. The only response that came to mind was from an old Saturday Night Live Dan Akroyd line, "Jane, you ignorant slut!"

--"You could always have another one." Like that will make it better. Just have another one and you will forget the loss of your child. I worked 3 years for this one.

--"After my baby was born, I had to have a D&C and that hurt too." You have got to be kidding me. How do I even respond to that one? This woman was a teenage, unwed mother who is now in her 20's. She doesn't have a clue and I think silence is in order rather than screaming at her with all my pent up rage. She is only 3/4 of the way through the wax, so I better just keep quiet.

--"Do you want a girl?" Right now I want a live one- that would be good.

--"I don't know if you have read any fertility stuff but" -Let's see: this was only my life's dream since I can remember and I have been trying to conceive since 2005. I think I may have read a thing or two, and met with 3-4 specialists, but why don't you share with me your infinite wisdom.

--"If you have sex 4 days before ovulation, you're more likely to have a girl." I wish these types of issues were my biggst concern.

To add to the mortification I was feeling, I started to bleed in the middle of it. Nice. I keep wondering when the spotting will finally stop- it keeps stopping and then starting again. The waxer was actually tactful about that. She suggested I excuse myself to the bathroom to address it, and I contemplated making a run for it. When I got to the bathroom I realized I had to go back- there was still wax on me and I would have looked a little lopsided. Drats! Back to the stupid whore!

The massage therapist made it all melt away. I could have stayed there forever. I feel great now and the morning is no longer affecting me.

4 weeks to the day that my baby died and I here I am. I read a line in a magazine while at the spa. It seemed particularly poignant. Bad things will happen- that is inevitable. But so will good things. And I get to choose what I will focus on. Today, I'll work on focusing on the good. Wish me luck!