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Tag: Sad

“Bigger than average”

Wesley-40-Weeks-Plus-5-Days-Photos-6

We had a biophysical profile ultrasound today. Fluids are good, blood flow is good and he is head down and in an anterior position. Yay.

The tech started the ultrasound by saying, “Oh wow, you don’t have much fluid in there.” and of course my stomach dropped out of my body. Then she poked around and, ya know, actually measured the fluid while I tried not to cry or panic. She then said there was a lot more fluid in there than she thought.

So thanks for the heart attack. Jerk.

Wesley was super stubborn and despite making my stomach jump and bounce all over the place in the waiting room he decided to take a snooze during the actual ultrasound. One of the things they have to look at is movement so she was poking him and shaking him and he would. not. move. I finally asked Joel to talk to him and sure enough, he kicked a few times. Baby boy loves his daddy’s voice.

Wesley-40-Weeks-Plus-5-Days-Photos-2

One thing he would not do was move was his hand away from his face though. So we got a little glimpse of his nose and mouth but that’s it. Every single ultrasound his hands have been up by his head. It’s kind of adorable but I really hope he moves those little hands for the delivery because, no matter how tiny his hands are, I don’t want them to try to fit through me with his head. Ugh.

Also, they estimate he’s 8lbs 2oz. In the words of the doctor he’s “a little bigger than average.”

And yeah, I know the measurements are not generally all that accurate but I’m still kind of freaking my freak over here. Because the measurements can be wrong the other way too. As in, he might be bigger than 8lbs. And he is not coming out yet. And he’s just getting bigger every minute he stays in me.

Excuse me while I faint.

It’s probably a good thing for my sanity that I go to such a laid back OB/midwife practice. Seriously, one visit to a high risk office where they tell me “He’s going to come out all dried out and wrinkled” and, when I tell them I haven’t been contracting much and the ones I have aren’t really uncomfortable, they say “well that’s not going to do anything at all” and it spirals me into an emotional hole.

Yesterday I was all zen. Today I spent most of the day ugly crying and terrified of pushing out a giant baby with a nuchal hand. It was not pretty.

Wesley-40-Weeks-Plus-5-Days-Photos-4

I had a bit of an epiphany earlier this evening and realized why all the advice for starting labor was getting to me so much. I know that the people who give it are trying to be nice and helpful. I’m definitely not mad at anyone for trying to help. It’s just, when people say “try x or y” it makes me feel like I’m not doing enough to get this baby out. Like, if I would have drank more tea or taken more supplements or walked further or had more sex or… or… or… he’d be here already. If I could just find the thing to do or do the thing enough I’d be holding my baby. Every moment I spend lying on the couch feels like I’m failing, even if the reason I’m lying down is because I feel like my pelvis is going to rip in half if I take one more step.

You would think that hearing that my baby is healthy and there are no issues would put me in a great mood. And yet somehow I left that appointment feeling completely terrified, defeated and like a failure. I’m really thankful for my friends on Facebook because they helped talk me down from my hysterics. I’m also thankful for my husband because he really does his best to stay calm and take my roller coaster of emotions in stride.

I know it’s not my fault he’s not here yet. Now if only I could get what I know and what I feel to match.

“Bigger than average”

Wesley-40-Weeks-Plus-5-Days-Photos-6

We had a biophysical profile ultrasound today. Fluids are good, blood flow is good and he is head down and in an anterior position. Yay.

The tech started the ultrasound by saying, “Oh wow, you don’t have much fluid in there.” and of course my stomach dropped out of my body. Then she poked around and, ya know, actually measured the fluid while I tried not to cry or panic. She then said there was a lot more fluid in there than she thought.

So thanks for the heart attack. Jerk.

Wesley was super stubborn and despite making my stomach jump and bounce all over the place in the waiting room he decided to take a snooze during the actual ultrasound. One of the things they have to look at is movement so she was poking him and shaking him and he would. not. move. I finally asked Joel to talk to him and sure enough, he kicked a few times. Baby boy loves his daddy’s voice.

Wesley-40-Weeks-Plus-5-Days-Photos-2

One thing he would not do was move was his hand away from his face though. So we got a little glimpse of his nose and mouth but that’s it. Every single ultrasound his hands have been up by his head. It’s kind of adorable but I really hope he moves those little hands for the delivery because, no matter how tiny his hands are, I don’t want them to try to fit through me with his head. Ugh.

Also, they estimate he’s 8lbs 2oz. In the words of the doctor he’s “a little bigger than average.”

And yeah, I know the measurements are not generally all that accurate but I’m still kind of freaking my freak over here. Because the measurements can be wrong the other way too. As in, he might be bigger than 8lbs. And he is not coming out yet. And he’s just getting bigger every minute he stays in me.

Excuse me while I faint.

It’s probably a good thing for my sanity that I go to such a laid back OB/midwife practice. Seriously, one visit to a high risk office where they tell me “He’s going to come out all dried out and wrinkled” and, when I tell them I haven’t been contracting much and the ones I have aren’t really uncomfortable, they say “well that’s not going to do anything at all” and it spirals me into an emotional hole.

Yesterday I was all zen. Today I spent most of the day ugly crying and terrified of pushing out a giant baby with a nuchal hand. It was not pretty.

Wesley-40-Weeks-Plus-5-Days-Photos-4

I had a bit of an epiphany earlier this evening and realized why all the advice for starting labor was getting to me so much. I know that the people who give it are trying to be nice and helpful. I’m definitely not mad at anyone for trying to help. It’s just, when people say “try x or y” it makes me feel like I’m not doing enough to get this baby out. Like, if I would have drank more tea or taken more supplements or walked further or had more sex or… or… or… he’d be here already. If I could just find the thing to do or do the thing enough I’d be holding my baby. Every moment I spend lying on the couch feels like I’m failing, even if the reason I’m lying down is because I feel like my pelvis is going to rip in half if I take one more step.

You would think that hearing that my baby is healthy and there are no issues would put me in a great mood. And yet somehow I left that appointment feeling completely terrified, defeated and like a failure. I’m really thankful for my friends on Facebook because they helped talk me down from my hysterics. I’m also thankful for my husband because he really does his best to stay calm and take my roller coaster of emotions in stride.

I know it’s not my fault he’s not here yet. Now if only I could get what I know and what I feel to match.

One year later

Last March was the worst month of my life.

The whole month of February was spent in blissful naiveté. Then March 1st it felt like my world fell apart.

I feel the sting in little reminders. Like yesterday, I went to get a prenatal massage and in filling out the form I had a tiny little punch to the gut.

2nd pregnancy 1st birth

Then I had to talk about it to the massage therapist. She was chatty.

I also keep thinking about that first ultrasound. There was nothing to see except my empty uterus and yet I cannot stop thinking about the picture that automatically printed. My mind replays my doctor ripping it off the machine, crumpling it up and throwing it in the trash over and over. I didn’t ask for it. I wish I had although I don’t know why exactly. There are many moments that replay from that day but that one stands out the most. Such a stupid little thing.

After that ultrasound we spent 12 days in torturous limbo and then I took what little control I could of the whole horrible situation and opted to have a D&C.

That was one year ago today.

For me personally it was the best decision I could have made. As weird as it feels to say it, the actual procedure was a very positive experience. A large part of that was the wonderful hospital staff and the other part was just the fact that I was taking control of a situation that I was completely out of control of otherwise. When it feels like your world is completely spinning out of control any grasp of control can make that spinning feel slightly less overwhelming.

While that day started the healing process, it was a long, hard road to feeling like myself again. Although saying “myself” doesn’t feel quite accurate. I’m not the same person I was before all this happened.

I think that’s a good thing.

It has taken a year’s worth of time to gain perspective because in the moment and aftermath I could not fathom how anything good could come out of losing my first pregnancy.

I know Joel and I are so much closer than we ever were. Tragedies can make or break a relationship. Thankfully it made us. We had several marriage struggles in the years before our first pregnancy. I blame the fact that we were practically babies when we got married. I was only 20 and Joel was just 24. Babies. Somehow we made it through those and then, instead of letting the blinding pain of losing a pregnancy rip us apart, we relied on each other in a much deeper way than we ever did before. I wish I could give more insight into how we did that but I either do not have enough distance from that time or there is no answer. Either way, I have never felt happier with our relationship or more in love with the man I call my husband.

Another good thing that came out of this was my ability to share my experience. I hate that anyone else in the world has to lose a pregnancy. But at least now I can offer my empathy instead of just my sympathy. Everyone’s journey is different but when I was in the middle of my worst pain other people rallied around me and it help me so much. Now I can be one who rallies around others. If sharing my experience helps even one other person that is a positive thing.

I also get my Wesley out of this. Sure, part of me has struggled with the mixed feeling of missing my other almost baby and being happy about this current one. Now that I’m thisclose to holding our Wesley in my arms though I have a hard time imagining I’d change anything. I love the little boy inside of me. My rainbow baby. My little lucky charm. My Wesley. I wouldn’t have him if it weren’t for my other loss.

I’m glad this year is over because it was freaking hard. I will never forget my loss, it has forever changed me. Change is not always bad though and I anticipate beautiful things in my future both in spite and because of my loss. And the change I look forward to the most is my son. You’re welcome any time, little guy.

Little reminders

pregnancytestI’ve been kind of quiet the last couple of days. Certain dates snuck up on me, almost without me realizing they were coming. It’s a bunch of stupid little things, but they throw me.

The Chicago Auto Show is this week. I have so much fun at it every year but last year felt extra special because I was in the extra giddy, we just found out we’re pregnant, phase. I’m still pregnant again, a year later. When I say I feel like I’ve been pregnant forever, I’m not kidding.

Girl Scout cookies are on sale again. Thin mints used to be my favorite thing ever. Even though my nausea and food aversions are not too bad most of the time now, the idea of eating them turns my stomach. I’m afraid the mental association may have ruined them for me forever.

I’m doing Fat Mum Slim’s photo a day on Instagram (By the way, are you following me over there? If not you’re missing a bunch of pictures that never make it on the blog.) I’ve started this January. The first time I tried her photo a day was last February and it was part of how I announced to the internet that we were expecting.  I didn’t finish the year because on March 1st it just didn’t seem that important anymore.

After my original due date passed it was like a giant weight was lifted off me and I really was completely absorbed in this current, healthy pregnancy. It’s not that I never thought about my loss but it didn’t weigh on me like it did before. Now that I’m back to the same time of year as when we first found out we were pregnant I’m feeling a bit more introspective and sometimes even downright sad again.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still so much more happy and excited than sad lately. I’m getting so close to meeting my little guy and I am very much looking forward to that.

But amidst that excitement the dates that are now coming up again on the calendar throw me back. Back to a time when I was more innocent and naive. The thought of that pregnancy not working out was barely a blip on my radar, I just assumed it would. Last February I never thought I would still be pregnant this February. I know I got a couple month break but that doesn’t make it feel any less endless.

It’s nice that there aren’t too many bad dates coming up. There are definitely more good ones to look forward to. I’ll be happy to finally have my little guy in my arms. Next year I have a feeling February and March will seem much brighter.

 

 

 

No baby

Sitting in the dark of the examine room, listening through the thin walls to the happy sounds of chatter and some other baby’s heartbeat from the next room I again saw nothing more than a void where there should have been a baby on the ultrasound screen. And I cried. I had talked myself into knowing there wouldn’t be anything there. But as I looked at the screen and saw and heard nothing I realized I still had hoped it was all just a mistake. No mistake though, there’s no baby.

Now I have the choice of waiting for things to pass naturally or scheduling a D&C. There are slight risks of damage from a D&C but it is the way I’m leaning as waiting for a painful bloody end is not at all appealing. There are risks to waiting (infection and even cancer) too so I think I’d rather just get it over with.

I feel so cold saying get it over with but there’s no baby there, there never was so I’m really over feeling pregnant. Thankfully the last few days the nausea has slowly been easing up. I just want this whole awful thing behind me though.

I feel so robbed by all this. I know it happens to a lot of people but it’s still so fucking unfair. I was so happy and now I feel like I’ll never be happy again. I feel like something is pressing on my shoulders and chest and I’m thisclose to crying at any moment. My innocence is gone and that can’t be gotten back. If When I get pregnant again how am I going to be excited? How can I feel anything but terrified going into another ultrasound? What if it happens again? What if there’s something wrong with me? Too many questions and zero answers.

Don’t tell me everything will be fine because you don’t know that. There’s no way anyone can know that. Don’t tell me there will be something better. Don’t tell me it’s all part of some stupid plan. It’s all bullshit. This whole situation is complete bullshit and that’s all there is to it.

It’s weird how this pregnancy never felt real and now that I know it wasn’t real it doesn’t feel real that it’s gone. Did that sentence even make sense?  Nothing really makes sense to me anymore.

Can I just wake up when all this is over please?

Nothing

I keep seeing the big black void where my baby should have been.

Nothing to see.

I remember thinking at the beginning that I thought I’d hear the heartbeat.

Nothing to hear.

My uterus is measuring about half a week behind where it should be. But even so there should have been something. Something beside the black void that there was.

Nothing.

Those moments of sitting on the table before the doctor came in I was so excited. I realized in those moments how much I really did want that baby and how I couldn’t wait to see it. Funny I would realize it then, right before it was gone.

Funny how losing something that was never really there hurts so much.

I still feel just as pregnant. I could barely make it out the door this morning because I felt so nauseous.

We have another scan next week to see if there could be a mistake with how far along I am. But there should have been something. Anything.

There was nothing.

Embracing the sad

There was a time I didn’t know how to cry. I noticed when I was 10. I was in a movie (part of a college student’s portfolio) and couldn’t muster up any of the tears that were necessary to play my part.

I faked it, but not well. Oscar worthy performance it was not.

But after that it became my mission to teach myself to cry.

Ironically it was around that time that my world turned upside down. My mom got sick and suddenly wasn’t around much anymore. That’s a story for a different time but my lack of emotion became really obvious. Things were happening that I should have cried over but I was like a rock. Just, nothing.

I couldn’t feel a thing.

I know now I was probably protecting myself. The thing was, I realized that while not feeling the pain was nice I also never really felt any good emotions either. I was blank. Empty.

Empty is so much worse than pain.

I can’t remember my exact journey away from numbness. I don’t think I ever had an epiphany that woke me up. But I did wake up. I taught myself to cry. Crying is a cleansing act. When your capacity for feeling reaches new lows it also reaches new highs. It’s impossible for it to go one way.

It’s been so long since I inadvertently learned that lesson that I’d kind of forgotten it. I’ve read several posts recently about being alone and finding a group, etc. They make me sad. I still have yet to find my “tribe.”

It’s something I want so badly and feeling sad about it all the time sucks.  Tonight I found myself sitting here wishing I could just shut that part of me off and not feel sad anymore. Just be numb.

But then it came rushing back to me. Numb isn’t all that great either. In fact, it probably sucks more.

So I’m embracing the sad. I accept that it’s part of who I am right now. I know, like everything this will pass. I will move on and grow and change and all that. I’ll look back on this lonely time and remember how much it sucked.

I’m guessing it’s like dating. When you want a relationship so fucking desperately it tends to elude. Relationships, at least good ones, seem to come to those who aren’t actively looking for one.

I have a feeling that once I embrace this feeling and become comfortable with my situation that’s when I’ll find my place. I will cry my cleansing tears and I will stop being ashamed of how I feel.

I’m lonely.

I’m sad.

I want a group of friends.

That is okay.

I will have a group someday.

And when I have that and I’m sitting around having coffee with friends and laughing until our stomachs hurt. Or reaching over to text my friend something neat that happened. Or being there to listen when my friend is hurting I will feel that too.

If the low of being lonely hurts this much then the high of finally finding my tribe is going to be pretty amazing.

Moods

The past several days I’ve been in what is best described as a funk. Moody, irritable, snapping at Joel or Phoebe over the littlest thing, bawling my eyes out for no reason whatsoever… Very unlike me. My life? Is really good. I have no reason to be feeling so down.

Tonight Joel, knowing how sad I’ve been all day, did his best to cheer me up. He brought home stuff for taco salad, watermellon and surprised me with one of my favorite movies, The Great Mouse Detective. After I ate dinner and 3/4ths of the the watermellon (not kidding) we snuggled and he teased me and tickled me until I was laughing so hard I couldn’t breath.

I don’t know that it fixed everything. I do know I’m fighting to be in a better mood though. I have so much to be grateful for. I’m trying to focus on all the amazing blessings I have in my life. It may not always be 100% effective at pulling me out of this funk but I’m not just going to lie back and let these feelings drown me.

However, when I can’t quite do it on my own, I’m so lucky to have an amazing husband who knows how to make me smile. And sometimes even laugh until my stomach hurts.

Down

I’ve been really down today. I’m hoping it’s a one day thing. Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel better. I’m counting on it anyway. I don’t like being reminded about people that hurt me and today is just one big fat reminder. So I’ve been quiet most of the day. Poor Joel makes jokes that would normally make me laugh and I barely crack a smile. That’s if I’m not too lost in my thoughts to hear him at all. I think writing about it will help and then I think that will only get me into trouble. So I’m in limbo with the words that I want to write swirling in my head and no outlet. Crap.

Why does family have to be so stupid sometimes? Why do friends have to suck? Why are people so hurtful? Why don’t more people treat others the way they’d like to be treated? If humans all lived by that rule the world would be a pretty nice place. It wouldn’t be perfect because obviously some people like to be treated differently than others and that would create some misunderstandings. But in general people would be kind to each other. They would be understanding when mistakes were made because they would realize that they’ve made mistakes themselves. They would accept people for how they are, right now, no qualifications. Wouldn’t that just be lovely?

I daydream about that sometimes. Like what if people weren’t cruel and ignorant? What if differing opinions weren’t something to be feared but were just cause for stimulating conversations? Why be so afraid of differences? Why is that threatening?

This post is like my brain throwing up. I do think about these things. Sometimes I even cry about them. Because hate is so hurtful, especially when you’re not really sure what you did to deserve it. To some people I am an awful human being. Consider yourself warned.

This post is so woe is me I almost don’t want to publish it. Life is mostly good but everything isn’t all butterflies and rainbows and I think that’s ok. Right? I can be sad on here every once in awhile, yeah? I promise it won’t happen very often. Sometimes I just need a hug. I’m so lucky I have Joel and Phoebe around for the cuddles. A little virtual love would be nice too, remind me I’m not completely evil.

A little evil obviously, but not completely. ::wink::

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