If you know me in the real world, but don’t really know me personally, you might want to stop reading right about now. This may be one of those “eeks! too much information” posts. You may not be able to look me in the eye ever again. Who knows?
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As part of my goal to stop feeling sorry for myself, I suppose I haven’t had much to say here over the past couple of weeks. I ended up starting a new “think more positive thoughts” blog, trying to be thankful for all the good things in life. Regardless, baby thoughts continue to cloud my mind.
It’s still weird to consider how different things could have been today, at this one point in time. Our child would have been over a month old. I’d be learning to see the world through his or her eyes… delighting in every little stage of his or her growing-up life.
Instead, I’ve been keeping busy by working endless, sleepless night shifts at the hospital. Though I could be complaining about work, just like any other underappreciated nurse… I’ve actually come to enjoy the distraction. Yes, it’s still a necessary “distraction” from the baby thoughts. As much as I miss the hubby while I’m working nights, it keeps me busy and makes time fly by quicker. Plus, it puts extra pennies in our pockets.
I’ve struggled with body issues my whole life, stemming from being called ”cushy” and “thunder thighs” by supposedly “loving” family members. It doesn’t help that I still can’t shake the residual pregnancy fat that plagues my belly; I don’t have baby in my arms, but I still have the bulging tummy fat. My abdominal region had the potential for flatness a year ago, just by exercising and dieting. Even months later, after trying and trying to burn the belly off, my clothes still don’t fit properly. It’s such a petty concern in the greater scheme of things. But it’s also one of those things that reminds me of what could’ve been… and it’s doubly frustrating. In the back of my mind, I keep believing that getting over our loss would be easier if I at least looked better. It tears me apart that I don’t have the same body anymore, and have nothing to show for it.
I got my period again yesterday. It’s the seventh one since the miscarriage. Every period makes me remember… After my D&C, the periods actually seemed to come more regularly than ever before, almost like clockwork. The cramping, while still present, is less debilitating than pre-pregnancy, too. I’m not sure if it was the D&C that helped…? Or maybe they seem relatively less painful because of the terrible cramps I experienced during the miscarriage. Regardless, every period reminds me I couldn’t stay pregnant…
But, this period is a little different than the others.
Before the pregnancy, we’d originally planned to travel to China this autumn. That was put on hold once we could no longer picture ourselves as just a carefree twosome cavorting across the Great Wall. After the miscarriage, one of the few positives was “at least we’ve still got China”.
However, the long dark months to follow made me realize that I had no desire to go to China right away. It would be a mess of touristy activity, as we (or just I) would try to cram seeing everything into a week. (Who knows when we’d ever return again?) I wanted a real vacation. No, not wanted — needed. You know what I mean: a time to actually relax and do things at a more leisurely pace. A time to be stress-free, lie back in the sun, and not have a care in the world — if even only for a moment. And to me, the perfect vacation would be hopping back on the cruise ship where we spent our honeymoon last year. For me, it was the last time I can remember being completely happy, before the turn of events that changed our lives forever… I just want to go back. If even only for a moment.
As previously mentioned, I still feel incredibly empty inside. It’s like Alex and I had so much love to share with our own child… and it’s just been growing and growing. Yet there’s no one there. I’ve managed to fill some of the emptiness by spending extra quality time with my patients — trying to recapture the passion I originally had for nursing, and put a lot of extra care into my relationships with them. It’s definitely paid back. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten so many hugs from my patients before.
I must now look older than I used to. There are weird occasions when curious patients don’t even ask the marriage question anymore; they skip directly to “do you have any kids?” Maybe it is written across my face… I don’t know. I always hesitate to reply. In answering “no”, I’d feel like I was lying. I do have a child who’s happily with God now. It would be dishonouring him or her to state otherwise. But to reply “yes” requires a long stream of explanation that hits on the controversy of self-disclosure within a nurse-patient relationship.
Nonetheless, I still feel a degree of emptiness. And I still believe it’s one that can only be filled by another child. I’ve been waiting and waiting, as Alex has insisted on waiting. However, as of yesterday, one of his obstacles has officially been breached: we are officially debt-free. No more student loans, no more bed payments, no wedding expenses. Debt-free. Wow… We wouldn’t have been able to reach this invisible landmark had baby expenses been factored into the equation. Now we can put all our pennies into saving for both baby and a home to call our own.
Which leaves one last “condition” to end the waiting. A year ago, though our honeymoon cruise was one of the best times ever, I was also hit with a wave of motion sickness that I hadn’t predicted. Not too long after that did I suffer through weeks and weeks of worse pregnancy nausea. Motion sickness can be remedied in a number of ways; pregnancy nausea not so much. Alex has constantly stated that we wait until after the cruise to start trying again. He’s been concerned I’ll be sick all through the cruise had I already been pregnant. And, as this is a vacation to finally relax and be stress-free in the sun, it makes sense to wait. Plus, how can I complete the picture of a lying on a Carribean beach without a cocktail (or two) in hand?
So, what makes this seventh period different is considering it could possibly be one of my last in the next little while…
However, I’ve come to stop looking at it as “trying again”. It destroyed me for so long that we couldn’t immediately “try again” like most women who’ve miscarried, yet now that we’re finally here, I don’t want to try. We got pregnant so effortlessly the first time; this would be a major disappointment if we were officially trying and nothing happened. Each subsequent period would be met with more disappointment, more depression. Why put that upon ourselves? Meanwhile, a part of me is still terrified of getting pregnant, and losing the baby again… I’m not sure I’m ready to deal with that again. But when will I ever be? I just wish I could be all naive and innocent again… I just wish I could believe I was like any other healthy woman. But I’m not. The only consolation is that Alex has agreed with me; if we are to lose the next one, he’s not against “trying again” immediately after.
As per the natural family planning method, we’ve monitored my basal body temperature to pinpoint my days of ovulation over the past months. After this period, I don’t plan to stick another thermometer in my mouth for a long, long time. In many ways, I believe it’s better for me not to know what’s going on with my body for the next little while. It’ll be nice not to be worried with “birth control”, and just to be with my husband whenever. And it’ll also be nice not having to count down towards the day of ovulation and forcing ourselves to have sex that very day, like a convoluted math equation (ie. ovulation + sex = baby). I know it’ll be in the back of my mind anyway… but I can’t let it control every second of my life. I can’t let myself be that kind of woman. With massive expectations only comes bitter disappointment.
I mentioned in a previous post how there’s never truly a perfect time to have a baby. There’s always a reason why it isn’t a perfect time, whether it be a deadline at work or a planned vacation having to be postponed. You can’t predict how the pregnancy is going to go, or if you’ll have to leave work early. You can’t predict if the baby will make it to full-term… But you also can’t predict if you’ll get pregnant at a certain time, even if you’re monitoring things very closely and trying very, very hard. Hence, if you plan your life directly around getting pregnant on a specific day, and you don’t get pregnant (which is a greater possibility), you will only be disappointed. (Eg. your career goals may have been put on hold for nothing, plus you have no baby). Or, if you don’t plan to be pregnant, you will be frantically trying to re-plan your life around it once it does happen. Right now, I’m determined to re-plan my life as it comes, rather than waiting around for something to happen.
One of my biggest gripes is trying to find a miscarriage blog out there that I can directly relate to. Lately, I’ve only come across “miscarriage blogs” where the most recent posts are about women’s two-year-old tots. Yes, I understand that it’s their way of showing that life doesn’t end after one or multiple miscarriages. They’re allowed to do that. They probably help many other women cope. But it’s not comforting to me… And it’s not what I need to read. Just because they went on to have beautiful children doesn’t mean I will. Right now, I just want to know I’m normal at this point in my life — that my thoughts are not those of a crazy woman. Soooo… I guess that’s my way of explaining why I’m putting all of this out there on the Web. Maybe it’ll help others…? Maybe it’ll fill some void.
Anyway, to end this long and scattered post… I still feel that I’m not in a great place 8 months later — I’m still dark and broken inside. But to anyone out there who’s just miscarried, it does get a little easier. It does.
