A Mother's Grief

It's hard not to get swallowed up by the grief monster. As I get further along into this pregnancy I feel the loss of my first pregnancy more and more, because it feels like my son is getting lost in the excitement of this new baby. And maybe it's because no one got the chance to hold him except me, maybe it's because he remains nameless so others forget that I already had a biological child. I don't know what it is, but it still hurts.

When doctors, nurses, friends and acquaintances ask if this was my first pregnancy I would hesitate. At first I'd say, "Yes, this is my first viable pregnancy," but before the words escaped my mouth I felt like the wind got knocked out of me. Like I was stabbing myself in the heart by betraying the existence of my 1st biological child. I rationalized that they would never count my 9 week gestationally aged "fetus" as a baby. After all, I didn't get to feed him, I didn't ever feel him kick, I didn't get to hold him, he never called me "mama," he never met his sister, or father, grandparents, aunts, uncles, or cousins, etc. And the worst thing is, they will never love or miss him like I do.

Being alone with such an acute sense of pain has triggered a self-defense mechanism, a super-sensitive ability to sniff out others who feel pain as I do. Whether it be a miscarriage, a stillbirth, the loss of a grown child, a parent, grandparent, or friend; they are all going through incredibly painful experiences, possibly the worst they have ever gone through, and I feel a kinship with them because of that. Grief is a very peculiar monster, indeed -- it has the power to bring strangers together, to drive lifelong friends out of the picture due to insensitivity, and it forces the bearer of that burden to grow in unnatural ways. For better or worse this pain will always be a part of me but I am strangely grateful for it. Without it I would have blissfully gone through life never understanding the depth of pain some people go through. It sucked tremendously but I'm glad I can relate to their pain, and that by inhabiting their world we can experience something beautiful and innocent -- a family of strangers loving one another. Eternal thanks to Keren, Sara, Kristen, Allison, Christine, Brandy, Helen, Heather M., Linda, Heather L., Tamika, Sarah, Tiffany, Michelle, Ariel, Docia, Amanda, Mary, Candace, Ally, Bailey, MomInterrupted, and many others left unnamed. I will never fully leave this place of grief but I am grateful for those who are there with me.

Naming Poll

There is a poll that you can participate in for our Babyloss website. We need to figure out a domain name, please help pick the one that you think would capture the most people. To vote, click here.

[EDIT] Grieve Out Loud won!! I will post a link to the webpage once we launch it.

Goodbye 2009

What a whirlwind year.

It started out with a wonderful surprise as we found out we were pregnant in February. But by April it was a devastating loss at 12 weeks that forever changed who I am. In May, my maternal Grandma passed away. In October, my friend of 19 years died from complications due to the swine flu. And last week I attended a funeral for a stillborn baby girl of a friend of mine. I guess it is only natural that as we get older we experience more loss in our lives. As Robert Frost put it, "Nothing gold can stay." Some lights burn bright for a short while, others shimmer for a long time, and others still will never get the chance to shine.

Heather Mohr (see blogs on the right column) and a group of her blogosphere friends have come up with the idea of starting a website aimed at helping moms, dads, brothers, sisters, grandparents, and friends of those who have lost children. I hope to contribute in some way to their endeavor and will keep you posted with what happens. Here's hoping that those individuals who come across this new website find some comfort in at least knowing they are not alone. This is an excerpt from "My New Normal" that Heather posted on her blog.

"Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you – it doesn’t compare. Losing a parent is horrible, but having to bury your own child is unnatural."

Update

First, I don't have a whole lot going on that you want to be updated on, I'm sure. I have, however, become quite familiar with the following:

1) constipation
2) bloating
3) constipation
4) boob soreness
5) gas
6) fatigue
7) gas that can't escape
8) NAUSEA, oh the nausea...
9) gas that escapes at inappropriate times
10) the nose of a dog (can smell cigarette smoke while driving with the windows up from someone 2 cars ahead of me and in another lane)
11) loss of "hunger" sensation
12) light-headed -- feeling faint just walking around
12) Pregnancy brain
13) Err, I mean pregnancy brain
14) constant burping

Most of these symptoms are great and a welcome reminder I'm carrying our little baby, but some of them I wish would just go away. Like, for instance, the nausea and the strange lack of hunger pangs. I think it's because my digestive system has slowed down SO. MUCH. that I don't ever truly feel hungry anymore. I still sometimes get ravenous and eat like a pig, but it's not the same hunger as before and it is most certainly not the same satisfaction. No, no. Once I chow it's only a matter of time before I feel my stomach creeping up the back of my throat, at which point I moan and find somewhere to lay down, sit up, lay down, chew gum, go to the bathroom, groan, dry heave, chew more gum. I'm afraid to eat anything anymore! *sigh*

We're supposed to go in for our first appointment this Friday but I just called to confirm I was having an ultrasound (after reading many posts on BabyCenter from women who were told they WEREN'T getting an ultrasound until 20 weeks), and guess what? I'm not scheduled for an ultrasound until 20 weeks. WHAT???!?!?! I don't think they understand what that will do to me if I have to go through the holidays just WONDERING how my baby is doing. So my doctor and I are going to have a chat and I am going to get an ultrasound to establish baby's heartbeat and make sure everything looks okay or else I am finding another doctor. Seriously? You expect a woman who has had a missed miscarriage to go through her first trimester without ANY indication baby is doing okay?? Not gonna happen. Not for this mama. I just wish it wasn't so frustrating. Why does it always feel like a struggle, finding a provider who works with you instead of against you?

I will update after Friday's appointment but so far, so good. I have had only good symptoms and none bad. So this is what it's like to have a pregnancy in which the threat of miscarriage is not constantly looming overhead....

** UPDATE to the UPDATE **

Friday's appointment is canceled in lieu of an appointment that will include an ultrasound on December 2nd.

November, November

And with the new month comes an unbelievable way to ring it in -- I'M PREGNANT! You see that BIG, FAT line on the left? That's the test line. Yeah, that's right, baby! Apparently, Jake was home just long enough to get me knocked up before he went to school and we could NOT be happier. When I wrote the memorial to our October Pumpkin, I had no idea at the time that I would be carrying another child by the end of the month. We are thrilled!


I thought about being cautious with sharing the news, but I feel so positive about this little firecracker that I can't hold it in. I've already bought a baby book and started writing in it. My first OB appointment is November 20th. I'll update with baby #2's first photos as soon as possible. Estimated due date? July 5, 2010.

For the Child I Carried

When I think back to before the pregnancy, I felt complete resignation to the fact that we would never be able to have children. That our prognosis of anovulation + low sperm count spelled in vitro fertilization, which was something that we couldn't afford and weren't sure we wanted to do. Maybe we should just be content with Grace. Jake never gave up that dream, but I truly did. Complete and utter resignation. I even began looking at websites for "child-free" living. Not that I didn't count Grace as our child, but to understand the point of view of those who never desired or chose to live life without children. I could see it fitting into my values about the planet and our resources. I could see it even being kind of fun. That we could focus solely on Grace and have fun with that. Our inability to conceive a child was the reason for me joining the military and going back to school. I figured if I couldn't focus my energy on making a baby, I needed something else. Plus, I was pretty unhappy with my job and tired of being at the bottom of the totem pole, so to speak.

So I start the military and school thing and it's going pretty well. After a 21 credit semester with hard science classes I managed to stay on the honor roll. I intended to maintain that standard for spring semester. I also had the goal of getting in better shape. I made sure to exercise over the winter break and I came back and ran past some of the kids who passed me up the previous semester. I was so determined, and I was taking PT twice a day, three days a week. But then something changed. I noticed I was falling behind on runs that I wasn't struggling with the first few weeks. And soon I was at the back where I normally am. I didn't really think anything of it until I started experiencing sharp abdominal pains.

Of course, most of you know that I peed on a stick that day and it immediately turned positive. I was in shock. I couldn't believe it. And I was so angry at whatever twisted cosmic fate there was that wouldn't allow us to get pregnant before, but as soon as I signed my life away to the military THEN it decided that it was the right time. It really felt like we were given a miracle, and I don't even believe in God. Our number got called, we got picked for the team, it just happened. But it felt amazing.

This is our baby's first official picture at 7 weeks. He had a healthy heart pumping 154 times a minute! Doc said everything looked good. However, I knew something wasn't right because I was spotting intermittently. He said to take it easy and the placenta would hopefully attach properly in the coming weeks.

I went through the typical pregnancy symptoms, loathing them when I had them, and relieved (at the time) when they went away. I remember mentioning my morning sickness wasn't so bad to a girlfriend and that it was letting up, and her reaction was one of concern. I never knew that was potentially a bad thing. Every woman is different, right? Maybe I was one of the lucky ones who never actually barfed. The girls, on the other hand, were swelling rapidly and HURT. SO. MUCH. The spotting was still a concern, but one woman I talked to said she spotted throughout her pregnancy and went on to have a healthy baby. I didn't want to burden my doctor by coming in every week, as he had offered in case I wanted. Looking back, I don't know how that would have made a difference. I am familiar now with the studies that reflect a woman who receives frequent care from a physician has a greater chance of carrying her baby to term. But I'm not sure it would have made a difference in my case. I do know, though, that if I ever get pregnant in the future I will be at my doctor's door as much as necessary to make sure we're doing everything we can to have a healthy baby.

I began sharing the news and I loved how it felt to say, "I'm pregnant." It was like the feeling you get as a newlywed -- you just can't wait to say, "I'm married!" It felt foreign and strange, like I was joining a club I thought I wasn't invited to. But I was also terrified of saying it, for fear that revealing it so early would jinx us. I remember verbalizing that fear to Jake before he called his mom. Oh, the guilt we pile on ourselves when we think we have control over things...

At 10 weeks I was hanging out with a friend and we went walking around the Co-OP. I had never been there before so she went with me down every isle. We had fun looking at all the items you don't see at regular grocery stores like soy pizza, organic chocolate, organic lipstick, even organic feminine products! We ended up buying chocolate, I think, and left to hang out at her apartment. Once there, we watched a movie and talked. I used the restroom and when I wiped my jaw dropped -- bright red blood. I got out of there as fast as I could, not wanting to mention the spotting for fear it would make it more real and I drove home straight-faced and in denial. I had gotten this far... I'm made it to 10 weeks. Only a few more and I'm in the clear. Just have to make it to the second trimester. Must make it to the second trimester, DAMMIT. I laid down and didn't get up for a few days. The spotting let up but it didn't completely go away.

Right before our 11 1/2 week appointment I noticed the spotting changed. There were now tiny little clots but nothing big. Everything could still be okay, I kept telling myself, but when I shared my fears I was reminded that I might be the problem -- that there was research out there to indicate that too much stress may cause a miscarriage.

The appointment...

They walked us back to the exam room and got a cup for me to pee in. They asked if I needed to go and I said I just went and that I also had some concerns. I explained the spotting to them and so they got me over to an ultrasound room to see what was going on. The tech was very nice. She tried an abdominal ultrasound first but that couldn't see much. I knew it right then. When she left for me to prepare for the "fun" ultrasound I told Jake it looked pretty empty. I was bracing for the worst. She came in again and did the other ultrasound. She found the baby pretty quick which made me smile at first, but then I noticed there was no heartbeat. Or movement. And that he was smaller than he should have been. Then she said, "Ohh, Heather. I'm sorry. This doesn't look good.... there's no heartbeat. And baby only measures 9 weeks. I'm sorry."

I had steeled myself up for that moment, but seeing my baby melted a part of me. I cried. Jake held me. The ultrasound tech walked us back to the exam room and the doctor talked to us at length about our options. I asked him why I had carried our baby so long after he had already died. He said that sometimes it takes the body a while to figure out it's not pregnant anymore. He gave us his pager number so we could contact him directly about what we wanted to do. Either go the natural way or have a D&C.

The next few days were spent keeping people at bay. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I didn't want to see anyone because I didn't want to come unglued. I didn't want to have to act strong when I wasn't. I didn't want to face that it was coming to an end. I didn't want to lose our baby. I felt terribly conflicted over the fact that I was mourning the dead child I was still carrying. For three days. I finally called the doctor and asked for the D&C. And as we prepared for it April 15th, I began feeling a strong cramping sensation. My uterus felt like a tight fist, continuously clenching. I took advil. A medicine I painstakingly avoided the past few months in bitter acceptance of what was to come. I took a photo of my pregnant belly. And I asked Jake to be with me. Twenty minutes later it happened. Like the whistle on a tea pot, the pressure built until there was no where for everything to go but out. It was sudden and profuse, and painfully emotional. I thought the worst part was finding out our baby was dead. No, the worst part was giving birth to a baby long before he was due. In a toilet. In such an undignified way.

The blood, dear god, the blood. It sounded like someone had turned a faucet on. And we almost went to the hospital but the on-call doctor advised us to wait an hour and if it was still going that strong then to go ahead and come in. But it's fairly normal for someone as far along as I was to experience that. I soaked pads as soon as I stood up so I spent most of the night in the bathroom. I frantically scoured the toilet for anything that might look like or house a baby. It was gross but I didn't care. I thought it was even a little weird, but come to find out MANY women do the same exact thing. I'm thinking of you... I saw one clot that had some greyish tissue but it looked like a string. Looking back on it, it was probably the umbilical cord. Not long after that, I bore down and passed a large amount of tissue. Sure enough...... there he was.

I cried harder and louder and submerged myself in grief. I told Jake he could come in if he wanted to, but that I wasn't sure he wanted to. I could hear him losing it outside. And he saw our baby in my hands and it just tore him up. I was comforted in knowing I wasn't going through this alone.

I didn't know what to do with the baby. Who talks about that sort of thing? Who prepares you? I hastily posted a message in the miscarriage section of Babycenter asking for advice and several women immediately replied. By this time it was after midnight... They said I could put him in a shoebox and bury him. Or plant a tree in remembrance. And they were so sorry and really meant it. It helped to know they'd been there before. I placed cotton balls inside a shoebox and laid our baby on a tissue floating on top. I covered him with a clear plastic bag. But I wanted to remember him. I wanted a picture. I secretly grabbed the camera, embarrassed that my husband might see me and think I was doing strange things. Come to find out, taking a picture of your baby is also quite common. and I don't regret it. Because now instead of one picture, I have two. And until recently, I really only looked at him with sadness but a dear friend recently told me that when she looked at my little peanut that he was beautiful. That he grew from the love that Jake and I share. And that's how I want to remember him. And that's why I'm sharing him.

I love you.

Hanging by a Thread