You Only Live Once, This Is How I'm Doing It!

Month: March 2012

Thank you

It has been four weeks since we saw nothing on the ultrasound.

Three weeks since it was confirmed that the pregnancy was not viable.

Two weeks since my D&C.

In that time I have received a lifetime’s worth of love from each and every one of you. It has taken me so long to write this because I don’t know how to do justice to how much your words have meant to me over the last month. Thank you just doesn’t seem like enough.

Every tweet, every comment, every email, every phone call, every kind word was like a hug. Each word was like air when I was drowning in pain.

I cannot express how much it all meant to me. Still means to me. My words are not enough to express how incredibly grateful I am to each and every one of you. I wish I could personally hug each of you.

At a time when I felt so utterly lost and alone and honestly wondered if I would ever find any light or any happiness ever again you all sent me that love and light through your words. Without you all I have no idea where I would be. Probably still drowning in despair. Instead I am healing and each one of you deserves some credit for that.

Thank you.

Thank you, thank you, a million times thank you.

I often find it easier to communicate through music. I listened to this song on repeat during this whole process. I first heard it on Weeds, and apparently that’s all Youtube knows it from also. Ignore the background, it’s about the words.

Holding onto the happiness

Tonight was a beautiful night.

I missed four dance classes while I was in hiding so I am taking a jazz class right before my company class for the next four weeks to make up for it. That means two hours of dance in a row. After two weeks of doing almost nothing but lie around my muscles were nervous.

It was positively blissful.

I worked hard and sweated like crazy and my body is pretty sore already. The thing is, I laughed so much I’m not sure if my sore abs are from the dancing or the giggling. It was just that much fun. I’ve been taking lessons there since October and this whole ordeal made me realize that in that time I made friends. Not just other students who take classes with me, but friends.

Tonight I received more hugs and words of sympathy but in a way more importantly I had fun. I laughed. A lot. It felt so good.

I’m not over it. I’m starting to realize that getting over it is probably an unrealistic goal. From what I’ve been told no one really “gets over” a miscarriage. It’s a part of me forever whether I like it or not. That was such a depressing, overwhelming thought before.

Tonight I realized that even if I’m never over it I can still find myself again. I will laugh and have happiness. My future doesn’t have to be dark.

I’m holding onto that feeling. Happiness is worth holding onto.


Had to drop by and update so there is no confusion. We lost the pregnancy at about 8 weeks. Not exactly the news I hoped to write on here but it is what it is. I’ve blogged about the whole thing on Skymommy and will continue doing so. If you want to follow my journey that is where it will be and I promise it won’t always be such sad news.


It’s one week after the procedure and I’m doing well. Most of the time.

A lot of the time I feel wonderful. Physically I’ve felt fine since the procedure. I’ve been loving the gorgeous weather. Warmth and sunshine do wonders over the normal cold and gloom we have this time of year. Joel and I are closer than ever. He is so sweet and understanding and does nothing but offer hugs, kisses and back rubs whenever I have a melt down.

I’ve managed to get out of the house a few times. I basically holed up for two weeks, not leaving for anything but doctors appointments. Over the past few days I’ve finally had the courage to face other people. I went to small group last Thursday and ballet last night. It was harder than I expected.

I’m not the kind of person who has ever been emotionally fragile. I’m used to being the strong one, the one that does the comforting. That has always been my role. I’ve never been the kind of person who is fighting tears every five minutes. I don’t know what I expected but it’s not this.

At ballet last night one of the girls asked how I was doing. I said okay and then she asked if the morning sickness was still bad. I felt like I’d been punched. She’s not Facebook friends with me, there’s no way she could have known, she was only asking to be nice. I muttered something about it being gone now and she went along chatting with some of the other girls in the room. I didn’t tell her. I literally couldn’t speak.

I spent class in a tug of war of emotions. It felt great to dance again but there were moments I just wanted to scream or run away. I didn’t though of course and I’m so glad. After class the owner, who already knew about everything, gave me the most wonderful hug. Funny how sometimes you don’t realize how much you need a hug until you’re in the middle of it.

I don’t like being fragile like this. I don’t like feeling like the smallest breeze will shatter me into a million pieces. The sight of a baby, the mention of pregnancy, any twinge of my body that I mistake for a pregnancy symptom for a split second. Any of it can send me into a spiral that’s hard to pull out of. If I’m alone I don’t have to try at all, I can just cry or mope or curl up in a ball until it passes. If I’m around people I have to try and hold it together and that is exhausting.

My solution so far has been to keep hiding. I’m safe to be happy or sad here at home. It’s not a permanent solution but for now it works. I won’t always be this fragile… right?


The sun shone in the bright blue sky as I made my way into the hospital and followed the signs to registration. I couldn’t help but notice the huge sign noting that floor number 4 was for Labor and Delivery. Instead I pressed the button for floor 2, same day surgery.

It was an unusually quiet day for surgery and I was the only one on the floor. The nurse handed me a gown and ushered me into a curtained off area. She laughed when I told Joel there was no reason for him to hang back while I changed since “he’s seen it all.” I was doted on by the three nurses on the floor with as many warm blankets, smiles and kinds words as I could handle. Joel and I actually laughed and made jokes as I took in the very new experience of being the one in the hospital bed instead of the support in the chair.

Part of the hospitals security procedures requires every new staff member to verify my name, birth date and why I was there before they performed any procedure.


The words always hung in the air for a few short seconds after they were said.

Joel held my hand as I took deep breaths through my blood draw and very first IV. I didn’t pass out or throw up and when you combine my hate of needles and my already uneasy hormonal stomach that is a serious win.

I was wheeled down the hall and onto another floor for the procedure. Joel had to leave me at that point and that’s when I got really nervous. I made sure to tell him that if something were to go wrong to give me a fighting chance before they unplug me. I was mostly joking.

I had no real idea of what to expect as my surgical experience is limited to what I’ve seen on TV. I was not lifted, sheets and all, onto the operating table. It makes sense since there was no trauma but still, I didn’t realize until I was sliding myself from the bed to the table that I’d half expected it. Everything goes dark shortly after that. No mask and counting back from 10. No idea how they knocked me out actually although I assume it was something slipped into my IV.  I do remember someone calling me petite and being half complimented, half worried about what that might mean for the anaesthesia.

I was obviously in very capable hands because next thing I knew I was in recovery asking a nurse if everything went okay. I was apparently there for an hour but I truly only remember the last 15-20 minutes of it. The secrets of that room and any post antithetic antics will forever be with that nurse and the 90-year-old man next to me since Joel was only allowed in the room once I was fully conscious. Phew.

I’m still amazed how quickly I’ve recovered. Before I knew it I was eating the most delicious toast I’ve ever had in my life (not being nauseous for the first time in weeks is truly a beautiful thing) and then getting dressed and being wheeled down to the car to come home. It was honestly easier than getting my wisdom teeth pulled. Physically anyway.

As far as mentally, I’m glad that it’s over. I’m glad to not have to sit around and wait and wonder anymore. As long as my body refused to take care of things by itself and kept me feeling so lousy I couldn’t help but hang onto that lingering what-if. Now there’s no question. It’s done. I’m ready to start truly dealing with my loss and to start rejoining society. I couldn’t do that when my half my focus was on what I could stand to put in my stomach and the other half was spent trying to keep what little food I managed to eat down.

I have one more day of rest and then Thursday I will dip my toe back into the world. My healing has begun.


Last night I tossed and turned, took deep breaths and tried to think of anything but how much the contents of my stomach wanted to make a reappearance. As tears ran down my cheeks I made the decision that enough is enough. So this morning I called my doctor’s office and scheduled a D&C for tomorrow morning. I just want it done. Over. I want my body back.

I hate feeling sick all the time for no freaking reason. I know I’m not as sick as some. I’ve only puked once so far and that’s so much easier than what my sister and some of my other friends have had to deal with. The thing is, I wouldn’t mind being nauseous all the time if it means a chubby, healthy baby in nine months. I do mind feeling this sick just to wait for an empty sac to pass. Every time my stomach turns it reminds me that there won’t be a baby at the end of this. It makes it so much more painful for me.

It’s not worth it. It’s just making me more miserable and I’m over it. I want to really be able to deal with all the emotions without adding resentment toward my body for not being able to figure out there’s no human growing inside me.

All that being said, I’m pretty nervous about the whole thing. I’ve lived a blissfully healthy life so far and other than having my wisdom teeth pulled I’ve never had any kind of surgical procedure. I’ve been in hospitals but only as support for those who were really sick. This time I’m the one checking into the hospital. It is an outpatient procedure and fairly routine so in the grand scheme of things this is so minor. It’s still scary to me.

As scary as surgery is, I’m less worried about it than I’m worried about physical and mental toll this failed pregnancy is taking on my body. I need closure. I need to start healing.

I’m taking charge of my body and scheduling my healing to start at 9:15 tomorrow morning.

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?

In hiding

First of all I have received so much love and support from so many and for that I’m so grateful. It really does mean the world to me to know that so many care. Really and truly from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

I say this because I have basically been M.I.A. since Thursday. It’s been so hard and right now I just… can’t… talk about it out loud yet. I’ve been ignoring calls and haven’t really responded to any messages. I haven’t even checked my email. I literally can’t talk about it out loud because my throat closes and my eyes fill and it’s physically impossible to get out more than a couple words.

Plus there’s still that unknown. That IF.

That IF is torturing me.

There’s a tiny part of me that can’t help but hope it’s all a big mistake and on Wednesday when I go in for another scan there my baby will be. Of course the minute I think that my mind flashes back to the nothing I saw. That horrible, ugly void. And when I see that in my mind I can’t see how anything could possibly have been hiding. There wasn’t a flicker of what should have been.

Of course I still feel nauseous and ridiculously tired all the time. My boobs are still sore. I haven’t seen even the slightest hint of spotting or felt a cramp. There’s nothing to indicate that I’m not completely normally pregnant.

Nothing of course except the nothing that I saw.

I’m feeling so guilty now for ever having doubts about wanting the baby. Irrational or not I feel like I wished it away in those moments. I also feel guilty for hurting so many people in my life that I love. So many people have said that they’re hurting and even crying for me and while that means the world to me it’s obviously not what I want. I didn’t want to cause people pain. I now really understand why people wait until 12 weeks to announce a pregnancy. Not that I regret announcing so soon. If I was alone in all this I don’t know how I’d make it through. I guess that makes me selfish.

I also feel so betrayed and angry at my body. Stupid body. If I’m not pregnant and haven’t been in so long that a fetus isn’t even visible why do I feel like this? Stop making me gag at the thought of food or get chills from trying so hard not to puke. It’s so freaking stupid. I don’t mind feeling like this if I’m making my child but what’s the point if there’s nothing there? Just to add that little bit of misery to things? Freaking nice.

So I’m not a happy person to be around right now, I can’t even fake it. That’s why I’m in hiding. I hope you all understand and will forgive me for this. I’ve been distracting myself as much as possible and just trying to fill the days until Wednesday rolls around and I can finally get out of limbo, one way or the other.


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.


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.

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