Recurrent Pregnancy Loss

So I’m two days from what would have been Isabella’s due date. I’m two months into seeing a RE. She seems to think my three miscarriages were all unrelated flukes. If so I have the world’s shittiest luck. She also said my MTHFR diagnosis wasn’t worth worrying about. My OBGYN seems to think its worth being on methylfolate and baby aspirin for life as enoxaparin during pregnancy.

Most days I just wonder if either really know anything and maybe we should just keep trying until we do get lucky. We are incredibly fertile. My body just fails me midway through. This week, the closer I get to Wednesday, the more I think I should just do what they say because I can’t take giving birth to another lifeless child. I never used to get nervous in hospitals. I’m a preacher’s kid, I spent half my life visiting the sick in hospitals. Now, whenever I see a cannula or IV line I feel like I’m going to be violently ill.

Her loss hits me harder than Luke I think. That doesn’t bother me. I get it. I felt her moving; he didn’t. I carried her and obsessed over her. He hurts when he sees me hurt so I try to mitigate it. Not to leave him out or hurt alone. It’s just I know these gut punches are going to happen randomly every now and again. I see my friends’ announcements on facebook or run into a pregnant coworker. My old room mate had a baby girl last week and named her Isabella. I know they will come and hurt. i know I can weather it. Sso why make him relive it too?

Fire and Rain

Well, I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain
I’ve seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I’d see you again

Her name is Isabella Ray. I carried her. I felt her. I hoped for her. I watched L speak to her. We wondered if she would have blonde hair like L when he was little. We laughed about how stubborn she was and predicted she would be a handful. She was our daughter, and she is gone before we could hold her.

I feel everything through a haze right now. Which is good, because people say some truly terrible things in their efforts to comfort, and I’m too dazed to respond. On some level I know they mean well. I don’t want anyone else to hurt too.

“you’ll have others”

“you’re still young”

“it probably meant something was wrong with her”

“this happens to lots of women and they go on to have lots of babies”

“just get through this and you can star trying again”

Honestly, my doctor has said the only thing that has made any sense to me,” I’m so sorry. This will be he hardest thing you ever do. Not the delivery but your heart.”

 

Isabella Ray

The news that truly shocks
Is the empty, empty page
While the final rattle rocks
It’s empty, empty cage
And I can’t handle this
I grieve, for you
You leave, me
Let it out and move on
Missing what’s gone
They say life carries on
They say life carries on and on and on

Yesterday was 16 weeks. I went in for my check up with L. I told the doctor there was some pink blood that morning so she did an ultrasound. I knew something was wrong the minute I saw her on the screen. She’d been so active in other ultrasounds, but now she was curled in on herself and I couldn’t see the sparkle thing that is her heartbeat. My doctor was so quiet and looking all over my uterus. I felt bad for her so I asked the question for her. Is there no heartbeat?

The doctor measured her and said she had stopped growing at 14 weeks. She gave us a a minute to process it on our own and said she’d be back in to answer our questions. L left to find a bathroom. He thought he would be sick. I’m somehow numb and devastated all at once. This doesn’t feel like my life.

 

 

 

Up and Up

And you can say what is, or fight for it
Close your mind or take a risk
You can say it’s mine and clench your fist
Or see each sunrise as a gift

I’m ten weeks this week. I’ve stopped bleeding and the baby is growing. It has a strong quick heart beat. It’s a fighter. I call it Oscar which annoys L because he thinks I’m trying to sneakily name the baby without him. I’m not (sorry to all the Oscars out there but I don’t love the name). It means fighter, and after the doctor showed me the heart beat and told me it was not likely to make it, I needed to give it a name.

I’m superstitious again these days. I thought maybe giving it a name would make it stronger somehow. I’m so scared of how my life might change if it makes it but I want Oscar so badly.

I gave some blood for genetic screenings this week. It will also tell me the sex of Oscar. I feel paranoid that some bad news will come of this test because I’ve already had more weeks with the baby than I thought I would.

Not that these weeks were spectacular. I feel like the bleeding stopped just in time fore me to have morning sickness 24 seven. Pregnancy sucks. I dream about food but couldn’t stomach it if I had it. Not good for Oscar food either. I want am crunch wraps and fettuccine alfredo. Or just anything really that has pasta, bread, potatoes, cheese, or avocado. That list was a bad idea, I’m off to find some food that I will hate once I throw it back up.

Recurrent Miscarriages

so I spoke too soon… I don’t feel all hopeful and sure that good things happen. I feel tired and in pain, and nauseated.

In good news, L and I are fertility gods. We can get pregnant just by breathing near each other it seems.

In bad news, my uterus is where babies go to die.

I found out I was pregnant again two weeks ago, but I didn’t feel hopeful about it because I was already bleeding.Then the bleeding got worse. Lots lots worse. Like horror film worse, and the pain was much different than my first time. I was sure that I had miscarried. I had had an appointment with my OB but they refused to let me see her until I did blood work.

Getting pregnant immediately after a miscarriage without waiting for a true period to pass seems to annoy doctors. Not that I planned it. We weren’t trying to get pregnant again that soon, and I only took the stupid tests because I desperately wanted a mimosa and didn’t want to accidentally pickle a fetus.

I didn’t see a point to the blood test, knowing how far along you are is pretty irrelevant when you are miscarrying. But i took it so that I could finally see my doctor and start unraveling the mystery of why I keep miscarrying. Also I was bleeding tons and really freaking out. The office said she’d call me with results that afternoon, but she didn’t. I called the office the next day and they said she’d call me. When she did, she congratulated me and said I was pregnant and six weeks along. i told her, nope, I’m miscarrying, since no one in that stupid office seems to have informed her “go take the blood test then go to the ER” is the daily mantra of the horrid nurses up front.

Upon hearing that this was my second MC in three months she set up an appointment to see if my levels had gone back to zero and that my body had expelled everything.

I went to that appointment yesterday. My levels went up, so she did an ultrasound to see what was happening. Apparently i may have lost a twin or had a placental hemorrhage. She isn’t sure. But I’m still pregnant. She showed me the heartbeat. I’m six weeks along..

…and the gestational sac is irregular and I will likely lose this baby anyway. It may be weeks or a month, but things don’t look good. I’m just waiting, and bleeding. And trying hard not to think about that heart beat and hope because I can’t imagine my heart breaking more than it is already.

 

 

That’s What’s Up

I’ll be the church, you be the steeple
You be the king, I’ll be the people
Well I was feeling such a mess I thought you’d leave me behind
Well I was being such a wreck I thought you’d treat me unkind
But you helped me change my mind

I’ll be the sun, you be the shining
You be the clock, I’ll be the timing
Well I was feeling such a mess I thought you’d leave me behind
Well I was feeling so upset I thought the sun never shined

Then I found forever
Hey hey love
We’ve been best friends forever darling
That’s what’s up

Forever
No matter what
You’ve got my love to lean on darling
That’s what’s up
You’ve got my love to lean on darling
No matter what

You be the book, I’ll be the binding
You be the words, I’ll be the rhyming
While I was feeling such a wreck I thought I was losing my mind
While I was feeling such a mess I thought the sun never shined

You be the bird, I’ll be the feather
We’ll be the best of friends forever
While I was feeling such a mess I thought you’d leave me behind
While I was feeling such a wreck I thought you’d treat me unkind

Then I’ll find forever and always
You’ve got my love to lean on darling
All the days
Forever, come what may
You’ve got my love to lean on darling
All the days
You’ve got my love to lean on darling
All the days of our days, yeah

Love is our shelter
Love is our cause
Love goes on forever
Yeah love will lead us all

Love, it is our honor
Love, it is our all
Love goes on forever
Yeah love it is our home

Oh, yeah, that’s what’s up

It’s been a long time. I haven’t felt the need to put my thoughts out there like I used to. My nightmares have stopped. I’m happy. For the most part. It’s been a crazy year. I got married. Which I didn’t think I would ever really do, but I found a pretty amazing friend. I think he’s why I don’t have nightmares anymore. For the first time in my life I feel completely safe.

That doesn’t mean things are always easy. We just miscarried.That’s the weird thing about feeling safe. I’m not afraid to acknowledge that I want things. I can be excited about them. And when my dreams get shattered, that’s ok too because he’s here and I’m not afraid to show him how sad, embarrassed, or flawed I feel.

I found out I was pregnant shortly after our honeymoon. We weren’t intentionally trying but we weren’t trying to prevent it either. I just didn’t expect it to happen so quickly. I was really freaked out about the little changes. Like smelling everything as strongly as if I was walking past a Hollister. But I was excited and and curious about this future person.

I found out I was going to miscarry a few days before it actually happened. I didn’t want to think about it. I was at a Halloween party watching my husband scoop the guts out of a pumpkin when it started. I don’t think I’ll view jack-o-lanterns quite the same again. I had a natural miscarriage, going in to the L&D unit would have somehow made it feel more traumatic.

This must be thoroughly depressing, especially since I started this talking about how great life is. Loss is funny though because you have to keep fighting it back down. Every time that couple friend teases you about when you are going to have a baby, or when you watch your two good work friends announce pregnancies on the day you should have gone in to hear the heartbeat.This is how I am fighting it today. I heard this song and I felt thankful that I could tell Luke what I can’t bring myself to tell even our family. That this sadness wells up unexpectedly still. That I feel like something must be wrong with my body. That I feel silly for being so excited and for still feeling so sad. That if his friend’s wife asks me one more time if I’m pregnant I’m going to punch her in the ovaries so that we’re even.

That’s what’s up.

 

Undermine

Sometimes good intentions
dont come across so well
got me analyzing everything
that aint worth thinking bout

just cause I aint lived through
the same hand that was dealt to you
doesn’t make me any less or make any more of you

I wouldn’t trade my best day
so you could validate
all your fears
and if Ive only got one shot
won’t waste it on a shadow box
I stand right here

well its all talk talk talk
talkin in the wind
it only slows you down if you start listenin
and it’s a whole lot harder to shine
than undermine

I checked my banking account today. I set this account up back in college and for the past few years every time I checked my account I’d see a second account with a number amount in it. I just ignored it up until this year. I know that isnt the best money managing philosophy, but I figured, its not my money so I’m not going to touch it. Earlier this year I caved and finally asked my bank what that account was all about. It was a college savings account for children that my ex and I must have set up way back and I just forgot about because I never put money in it.

I genuinely do intend to save for my children’s college someday, but back then my ex and I were barely staying in the black, and while I probably didn’t vocalize it as often as I should have, I had no intentions of having any kids in that decade. Anyway, I saw this account and realized my ex must have started putting money in it back in the day. I haven’t been sure what to do with it. He obviously stopped after things ended, but then today I saw another deposit had been made to it. I’m not sure what is going on or why he would add to it. We haven’t spoken in years and I have no intention of getting in touch with him if I can help it.I’m hoping the bank will just funnel it back into whatever account it came from and let me shut that college account down.

Its weird to me to even think that I was going to marry him much less have kids with him. I can’t even recall exactly what his face looks like anymore. I don’t remember what it felt like to care about him. Sometimes if I watch a movie from back during the break-up I can remember how intensely I hurt, and that’s about as close as I can get to understanding how much I must have felt for him. Does that mean anything? I hope not. I think time just does that. I remember how bothered I used to be to have to tell people that I’d been engaged before. It felt like something I should be ashamed of, I don’t even understand why now. Piece by piece the past just evaporates and I’m thankful.

Sometime now, when L and I are having a discussion I’ll find my heart racing and my thought growing anxious. L picks up on this somehow and will tell me its just a discussion, it doesn’t change how he feels and he isn’t going to walk away from it til we’ve talked things out. I didn’t think people like him existed.I’ve never experienced a relationship where you didn’t have to carve off pieces of yourself to make yourself fit with the other person, until now. Its the first time I don’t feel caged by being with someone and I really hope it stays that way, but even if it doesn’t, I’ve learned so much, and I’ll leave it better for having known L.

Lake

My family just moved to a new town. We are living with some people who are strangers to me until we find a place. I don’t like the town. It’s quiet a great deal of the time and people don’t come outside much. It’s also very dry and brown in this place.

The family we are staying with has a son a few years younger than me. He takes it upon himself to show me around town. The town is small so we walk and run into a girl named Alyssa. In a more rundown part of town is an old community park with a lake in the center of it. The lake is really more of a glorified man made pond that has lost so much water that the edges of its concrete bottom show. Still, there is enough brackish looking water in it to make one wary of falling in. I don’t like the lake much. They should drain it and start over. Across the lake from us is an older guy; maybe 28 with long dark brown hair. He says his name is Zane. He and I chat for a bit and he mentions a community picnic in the park the following night. He leaves shortly after.

It’s gotten dark and I tell the boy about the picnic hurriedly because I want to leave the park. We hear loud splashing behind us and turn to see Alyssa struggling in the middle of the lake. She can’t get enough air to even yell for help and in the next second she is under and she doesn’t come back up. I start to head towards the lake to go in after her but after she goes under the face of the lake begins to tremble and churn all over as if several large somethings where moving under the water. The boy and I leave and run home. For some reason we don’t tell anyone, we’re too afraid and we can’t make sense of what we saw.

T.S. Elliot and 26

And indeed there will be time

 For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,

 Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;

There will be time, there will be time

To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;

There will be time to murder and create,

 And time for all the works and days of hands

 That lift and drop a question on your plate;

 Time for you and time for me,

And time yet for a hundred indecisions,

 And for a hundred visions and revisions,

 Before the taking of a toast and tea.

That is from The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock. One of my favorite poems. Elliot has a way of describing things that makes you feel and smell and see them as though you are really there. Mostly his poems are beauiful to read out loud. They have a comforting cadence to them. I’m 26 today and this is the second birthday in a row in which nothing disastrous has happened. Not only that but it has been a great day. It’s funny how much time changes things. I loved birthdays when I was little and I celebrated in one long week with my Mom and Grandad who shared the same birthday. Birthday’s meant family and presents and sneaking chocolate cake for breakfast for days after.

Then you get older and the world gets more complicated. Parents aren’t the epitome of perfection that you expected them to be as a child and life doesn’t look the way you thought it would as you got older. I didn’t notice any great leaps in wisdom occuring in me and I definitely didn’t think of all the responsibility that came with getting older. There were a string of disasters each birthday for years til I started to dread April and look over my shoulder all month. Would someone else die, or split up, would I fail my greek final again? And then there was that string of birthdays from 21-23 where I panicked each year as I realized my life plan was way off course and I had no idea what track to be on to even get things back on track.

The past few years though it doesn’t matter so much how quickly time is passing or if my future is not as clear to me. I like now. I am blessed with more friends then I can remember in a day and I’m healthy and happy. And if I don’t achieve all I set out to today, there will be tomorrow, and if there isn’t tomorrow, well it hardly matters then. I’m glad I didn’t waste my last day on it.

I love this poem because it somehow underscores the finality of everything while describing the cycle of living. Things fall apart and come together again. We get thousands of chances and decisions and if we are wrong well there will be thousands more. It’s going to be a good year I think.

The Lost Generation

I spent some time with a friend this weekend who I talk a lot to about evolution, the future, etc.; things you talk to friends about after you’ve had a few drinks or it’s really late at night. While talking about figuring out what we wanted to do with our lives, I started thinking about Generation Y and how it is getting labeled a second “Lost Generation.”

Generational trends have always interested me. There is not a set amount of time between each generational cohort, it is typically about 20 years but is mostly grouped based on common life events and experiences. It varies by country as well. In the states, we have 5 commonly known generational groups and the idea is that these generational trends repeat themselves over time. My generation, generation Y, follows generation X, and will give birth to another silent generation if this theory holds up.

What made me think of this is, I’ve struggled a lot with my beliefs in God and evolution and reason versus faith. I’ve spent the past few months talking with my peers about it and I started noticing trends in how the came to their current belief system. I’ve also noticed that a surprisingly large amount of my peers are at a loss as to what to do with their lives, career wise as well. I’ll come back to this in a minute.

So generational trends, in a very general explanation look like this: We start with the Seniors who were born 1926 or earlier. This is the generation that survived World War I and had a deep sense of the cost of freedom and the need for responsibility. This generation gave way to the Builders. The Builders survived the Great Depression and World War II. This generation looks a lot like the Seniors but are split by the original “Lost Generation” of the 20’s. The original Lost Generation was between wars and seemed to lack the sense of purpose that the Seniors exhibited. Jobs were at an all time low and the Lost Generation, realizing that bad things happen to good people, did not have the same understanding or need of spirituality as the generations sandwiching them.

…So I never finished this. Sorry. Maybe I’ll revisit it a little later.