A Setback in the Life Plan
Disclaimer: This post is about me attempting to handle pretty serious emotions, which I don't do well (ask my husband). If the story is too much for you, go read my hilarious story about trying to kill a spider in my shower.
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I guess if you don't know me and you just read this extremely sporadic blog, you think my life is pretty great. Which it is, for the most part. Plus I'm a positive person. I really can't help but to look on the bright side of a situation. This attitude has kept my stress level down for many years, although at times I do bury negative feelings that I don't like experiencing. I know I do it because if I think about my grandparents who have passed, or holidays I celebrated with both of my parents together when I was young, I'll just instantly tear up. So I just don't think about those things.
Along with pushing away negativity, I also like to control my life as best I can. Most people do it, just in different ways. My way is trying to plan everything. Mike has a similar way of living, which works well for us. We took 2 years to plan our wedding, we planned out when to buy our house, and when to have Simon (although that took a bit longer than we had planned, it was still in good time). We also have some pretty serious routines around the house, and I think that eases the control freak in both of us.
Now, we want another child. That is the next big plan. Easier said than done. We have a bit of a fertility issue that we finally had gotten figured out a couple months before we conceived Simon, so I thought if we just followed the same system for this next baby, I'd be pregnant in no time. Turns out my body screwed itself all up after having Simon and nursing him for a year. My hormones never completely went back to normal, even though my doctor said I was fine. I didn't FEEL fine. I stopped liking music, almost completely. I could go days or weeks without listening to any music, it meant nothing to me. I also started viewing humanity as a plague upon the planet, just giant ants that procreate and use up all the resources. (I'm still not quite over that point of view, and with 45 in office, I'm not sure I will be anytime soon.) So after 2 years of no birth control and 1 year of really trying, we were about ready to go try fertility measures. (We managed to conceive Simon naturally.)
Then, last March, right before the fertility doc appointment, I discovered I was pregnant. It was a big surprise, since I thought I had gotten a light period that month (although I should have known, since mine is never light). After I tested I started getting mild symptoms like nausea and food aversions, but not much else. I should have been happy; my plan finally worked! But I was very anxious. The "period" I had had for 7 days was not a normal pregnancy symptom, but I tried to look past that. I got my HCG levels checked and everything was ok. Then in my 7th week I spotted again for a few days. Not a good sign. I got an appointment the next week for an ultrasound to see how the baby was doing. During this time I only told my mom and Mike told his mom we were pregnant, but we didn't tell anybody else because I just didn't feel excited or happy about it.
We set the ultrasound for Mike's birthday, optimistically thinking it would be a nice thing to see our baby for the first time on his birthday. When the ultrasound tech found the baby, my first exclamation was "Oh, it's still alive!" I'm not sure why I said that, but that's what I said. The tech kept asking me if I was sure about the conception date, and I told her I was. Then she said the baby was measuring 2 weeks behind schedule, with a heartbeat of 84. That's very low for an 8 week old baby, but I was still holding out hope at that point. Then we went in to see the doctor, and immediately she said "This pregnancy is not going well for you. I'd expect a miscarriage in the next week." Of course I started crying immediately while she explained that the size of the baby, the heart rate, and the enlarged yolk sac are all very bad things when put together. She said to go home and wait a week to see what happened.
A week later, I felt no different. They set me up for another ultrasound, and I had a glimmer of hope that the baby would have grown and changed for the better during that week, but it was not the case. The tech told me the baby's heart had stopped beating one day after I went in for the first ultrasound. I just wanted the whole process over with at that point, so the doctor gave me a special pill that makes people expel babies. It's really quite gruesome and painful so I'll spare those details, but I did get a sick day to stay on the couch and watch Cliffhanger. A couple weeks later I was not pregnant anymore. Four weeks after that I was ovulating again, and now I'm more determined than ever to have one more baby and then shut my uterus down for business.
Negative emotions I tried to let myself feel:
--Frustration because I had planned for Simon and his sibling to be 2.5 years apart and therefore cute playmates for each other. Simon is now 3 and a half so I'm gonna have to deal with the fact that there will be a different dynamic between him and another future child.
--Anger because why does it have to take so damn long to get pregnant, only to lose the baby?
--Sadness over the baby that could have been. My mom wanted me to find out the gender, but I only see that bringing more hurt and pain. I don't want to imagine any more details of the potential life we could have had than I have to.
Positive emotions that I think about a lot to make myself feel better:
--Hope because I am ABLE to get pregnant. It happened twice, it can happen again.
--Relief because it's likely if I managed to keep that baby alive, it would have had birth defects, and that would make our lives infinitely more difficult.
--Gratitude because I have an amazing perfect 3 year old son, and some of my friends are unable to have children.
--Thankful to others that have told me their stories of miscarriage or other infertility issues. These stories have made me feel so much better, just knowing that so many people go through this. This is one of the reasons why I don't want to keep my story to myself.
And lastly, after the miscarriage, I finally felt my hormones return to a more normal state. I can cry at movies more frequently again. I can find nature beautiful again. I can find PEOPLE beautiful again. I can love music again.
And I WILL get pregnant again.
____________________________
I guess if you don't know me and you just read this extremely sporadic blog, you think my life is pretty great. Which it is, for the most part. Plus I'm a positive person. I really can't help but to look on the bright side of a situation. This attitude has kept my stress level down for many years, although at times I do bury negative feelings that I don't like experiencing. I know I do it because if I think about my grandparents who have passed, or holidays I celebrated with both of my parents together when I was young, I'll just instantly tear up. So I just don't think about those things.
Along with pushing away negativity, I also like to control my life as best I can. Most people do it, just in different ways. My way is trying to plan everything. Mike has a similar way of living, which works well for us. We took 2 years to plan our wedding, we planned out when to buy our house, and when to have Simon (although that took a bit longer than we had planned, it was still in good time). We also have some pretty serious routines around the house, and I think that eases the control freak in both of us.
Now, we want another child. That is the next big plan. Easier said than done. We have a bit of a fertility issue that we finally had gotten figured out a couple months before we conceived Simon, so I thought if we just followed the same system for this next baby, I'd be pregnant in no time. Turns out my body screwed itself all up after having Simon and nursing him for a year. My hormones never completely went back to normal, even though my doctor said I was fine. I didn't FEEL fine. I stopped liking music, almost completely. I could go days or weeks without listening to any music, it meant nothing to me. I also started viewing humanity as a plague upon the planet, just giant ants that procreate and use up all the resources. (I'm still not quite over that point of view, and with 45 in office, I'm not sure I will be anytime soon.) So after 2 years of no birth control and 1 year of really trying, we were about ready to go try fertility measures. (We managed to conceive Simon naturally.)
Then, last March, right before the fertility doc appointment, I discovered I was pregnant. It was a big surprise, since I thought I had gotten a light period that month (although I should have known, since mine is never light). After I tested I started getting mild symptoms like nausea and food aversions, but not much else. I should have been happy; my plan finally worked! But I was very anxious. The "period" I had had for 7 days was not a normal pregnancy symptom, but I tried to look past that. I got my HCG levels checked and everything was ok. Then in my 7th week I spotted again for a few days. Not a good sign. I got an appointment the next week for an ultrasound to see how the baby was doing. During this time I only told my mom and Mike told his mom we were pregnant, but we didn't tell anybody else because I just didn't feel excited or happy about it.
We set the ultrasound for Mike's birthday, optimistically thinking it would be a nice thing to see our baby for the first time on his birthday. When the ultrasound tech found the baby, my first exclamation was "Oh, it's still alive!" I'm not sure why I said that, but that's what I said. The tech kept asking me if I was sure about the conception date, and I told her I was. Then she said the baby was measuring 2 weeks behind schedule, with a heartbeat of 84. That's very low for an 8 week old baby, but I was still holding out hope at that point. Then we went in to see the doctor, and immediately she said "This pregnancy is not going well for you. I'd expect a miscarriage in the next week." Of course I started crying immediately while she explained that the size of the baby, the heart rate, and the enlarged yolk sac are all very bad things when put together. She said to go home and wait a week to see what happened.
A week later, I felt no different. They set me up for another ultrasound, and I had a glimmer of hope that the baby would have grown and changed for the better during that week, but it was not the case. The tech told me the baby's heart had stopped beating one day after I went in for the first ultrasound. I just wanted the whole process over with at that point, so the doctor gave me a special pill that makes people expel babies. It's really quite gruesome and painful so I'll spare those details, but I did get a sick day to stay on the couch and watch Cliffhanger. A couple weeks later I was not pregnant anymore. Four weeks after that I was ovulating again, and now I'm more determined than ever to have one more baby and then shut my uterus down for business.
Negative emotions I tried to let myself feel:
--Frustration because I had planned for Simon and his sibling to be 2.5 years apart and therefore cute playmates for each other. Simon is now 3 and a half so I'm gonna have to deal with the fact that there will be a different dynamic between him and another future child.
--Anger because why does it have to take so damn long to get pregnant, only to lose the baby?
--Sadness over the baby that could have been. My mom wanted me to find out the gender, but I only see that bringing more hurt and pain. I don't want to imagine any more details of the potential life we could have had than I have to.
Positive emotions that I think about a lot to make myself feel better:
--Hope because I am ABLE to get pregnant. It happened twice, it can happen again.
--Relief because it's likely if I managed to keep that baby alive, it would have had birth defects, and that would make our lives infinitely more difficult.
--Gratitude because I have an amazing perfect 3 year old son, and some of my friends are unable to have children.
--Thankful to others that have told me their stories of miscarriage or other infertility issues. These stories have made me feel so much better, just knowing that so many people go through this. This is one of the reasons why I don't want to keep my story to myself.
And lastly, after the miscarriage, I finally felt my hormones return to a more normal state. I can cry at movies more frequently again. I can find nature beautiful again. I can find PEOPLE beautiful again. I can love music again.
And I WILL get pregnant again.
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