So where did I leave off?

...I left off at the last nightmare, going in for a follow up ultrasound on the 21st. I was nervous, paranoid that all of my pregnancy symptoms had left me. My breasts, once sore and tender with darker nipples, were not sore and nipples were pink again. I know my body, I knew I was not pregnant, but ever the opti-pessimist, I attempted to suppress the reality.

I went in for the appointment. They had moved to a new location, I remember thinking about how nice the new office is, then I went into the much larger ultrasound room.  I had an vaginal ultrasound. The tech, an woman in her late 50s, was kind. She took some measurements of my ovaries, the wait was driving me nuts, I did not care about my fucking ovaries - what of my pregnancy. Then she went to look for the baby, ahh, found it. She took some measurements, ever the concerned look on her face. She turned on the microphone. There was a dead, hollow sound that filled the room, she did not let it stay on for long, shook her head and ended the ultrasound. I can still hear that sound, the sound of the absence of sound.  She told nicely to get dressed, she was going to get my midwife.

I waited, I knew. I called my husband, told him there was not good news. He told me now was the time to freak out, be upset, now that we have scientific evidence that something was wrong. I gather he did not trust my womanly intuition. My midwife came in, knew I had been crying, put her hand on my shoulder and said she was sorry. I asked her to speak to my husband, she took the phone, told us that there was still no heartbeat, and just as concerning, the fetus did not grow from the previous week. We guess the baby died two weeks ago at 6 1/2 weeks. That my LMP date was probably correct. Regardless, the diagnosis was a missed miscarriage...

My options were to either wait, go in for a D&C or take Misoprostol to induce the "abortion" of the dead fetus. We opted for the drug, a D & C is too invasive (again) and waiting is not the best option when your interviewing for jobs and chasing a toddler around. Neat and tidy decision, she handed the phone back to me. I told my husband I would call him later.

I am filled with sadness, need a hug. I almost cannot process this. when my husband comes home and drones on about his day, with little acknowledgment of OUR loss. I want to throw something at his head. I hold it in. My agner at his indifference with come out some other way. I need to hold it together, I have a job interview tomorrow. Weekend plans: to have a miscarriage.

So my next post with be about my Misoprostol miscarriage.

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Reality sets in...

So last Wednesday, I had an ultrasound. I should have been 7 1/2 weeks along according to my last menstrual period (LMP). According to the ultrasound, I measured at 6 1/2. In and of itself, not a big deal, except combined with the fact that the tech was unable to find a heartbeat. I waiting for the radiologist. She came in and told me that it could just be that the baby is not far enough along to get a heartbeat. She felt it was best for me to come in for a follow up ultrasound a week later.  My heart was breaking inside. I am fairly in tune with my body, I knew that despite no cramping or bleeding something was wrong. My breasts had been tender and the nipples had turned dark. I noticed that they did not seem as tender and the nipples were getting lighter. My husband did not seem to want to talk about it until the follow up ultrasound. I really did not have anyone to share things with (still do not).

I carried on for a dreadfully slow week. Despite the midwife's orders not to do anything stress, my husband did nothing but unload stress upon me, not giving any room for my hormonal mistakes, or emotional responses. His needs were higher than mine and he needed to make sure I knew it (again, not talking about my child). The weekend before my follow up ultrasound was terrible, despite attempts to create a stress free environment, enjoy time with my toddler, my husband decided it was the weekend to call me out on my mistakes and beat them all to death in repetitive conversation.  I am having a hard time forgiving him for that. lucky for him, I love him.


The weekend is over, I know something is wrong, I try talking about it, but my husband tells me to be optimistic. He does not want to have the conversation until we know something.

Busy week, visited a couple daycares. I want to write a post about childcare, it feels like the hardest decision I have to make. I have a second job interview on Thursday (tomorrow). 

Finally Wednesday has arrived. My mom picks me up and we head to my appointment...

I will have to finish my post in a later post, getting to painful to write and my son is waking up from his nap.

All I (me, myself and I) need is love...

Scared...bad news..need hug. I need someone to tell me they are sorry this is happening to me. Scary news...no news. No moving forward, just waiting...no hugs, no love. Sadness.

Help Wanted: Tired Mom needs SLEEP!

It is true, so exhausted, I want to throw up, it is days like this if I had a job I would call in sick, still bring my child to daycare and crawl back into bed and stay there as long as possible. I went to sleep around 2:30am, only to be woken up by a screaming toddler, clearly having a nightmare, around 5am, calmly I went in to sing him back to lala land, stumbling back to my bed, waking up to the alarm clock (for my husband) at 6am.

My husband, who would prefer to oversleep, needed me to nag him to awake, then make coffee, since he slept 1/2 past the alarm clock. I wake up, dutifully make him coffee and lunch, then attempt to snooze on the couch. At that time, my husband, having to go up our creaky steps to get his work clothes, accidently wakes up our son, placed him next to me on the couch. I get up, get him some milk, as I watch him greedily suck it down, I begin the slow process of realizing that my day has begun, like it, or NOT!

I succumb to the coffee, let it in, and still nothing...little brain activity. Sleep will be the only thing to bring that back, sweet blissful sleep, only 4 hours to naptime...

I am stuck...

Okay, so what is a few months missing on a blog anyways - no one but my faithful friend "Makishka" reads me anyways. Maybe Mom, but that is it. Also, I have not really told anyone about my blog...crazy cyberstalkers freak me out.

The truth is, I am stuck. I cannot really move forward without coping with the loss of my 2nd pregnancy. I think about it - alot! Tonight I wll break down the different stages of grief, as it relates to this loss:

• Denial. I sort of skipped this one, I never denied it, when the doctor told me that my baby was incompatable with life, I believed it. When I sought a second opinion and heard the same thing, I believed it. At no point did I allow myself to gain hope in believing anything else.
• Anger. I was angry - I was mad at my partner for making me hunt mice with him all night long on Christmas, when we had some weird infestation of them. All, I could do in my mind was blame him for exposing me to mice dropping (not proven to be linked to Alobar Holoprosencephaly, but anger is rarely rational). I fel the did not care, becuase he never wanted to talk about it.
• Guilt. This was plentiful (I was raised Catholic). I felt there was so much I could have done different. I could have relaxed, taken my prenatal vitamins BEFORE concieving, etc.

• Depression. YES! YES! YES! I was very depressed. My pain made me feel such inadequacy and self-pity, that I hated me. I tried to take pleasure in spending time with my son, husband, whomever, but I really did not enjoy company. I clung to my son like he would disppear, I pushed my husband away (I blamed him). I was too depressed to get myself to go to the funeral service offered by the hospital for early pregnany loss.

Now, I move toward, the final stage:





Utrasound picture of our second child. Features of Alobar Holoprosencephaly were very pronounced.


• Acceptance. I am not there yet, I still have some residual anger and anxiety. I am certian, that I will accept it eventaully, but for now I am not there. I still want to look over the pictures from the utrasound again, I am still grieving, but moving closer to acceptance.

Now, I am pregnant again. I cannot really allow myself to think about it too much. I want to be excited, but then anxiety kicks in, All I can do is sit there and wait. Hope that nothing is wrong, not getting too attached, not even allowing myself the flicker of a fantasy that all is well. I hope it is, but I know all to well now not to make any plans.