It's been a month and four days since I gave birth to our beautiful A. I have begun to accept it and little by little have come in contact with the outside world. I do go to the gym at 5am and this is mostly to avoid running into people I know (there are about 6 of us at the gym at that time), but I also practice yoga in a place where everybody knows my name. I have gotten in touch with some old friends and have even met for lunch or to exercise together.
I'm at a better place right now despite my wide range of emotions. I find myself crying, then laughing at my situation, then jealous of other women, then upset, then angry... but most of the time I feel lonely. No one here understands where I'm coming from... No one here has felt this kind of pain.
I still get upset when I see babies and pregnant women, (and I usually walk the other way when I see one, especially one I know), and more often than not I'm mad at them and am mad at the universe for not giving me a living baby. I'm mad at people who drank and smoke and did everything I did not do and still got a healthy baby... I am jealous of never being able to have a care-free pregnancy. I suppose these thoughts are common among most of us standing in this place I have yet to name.
I know I am not infertile nor struggling with infertility. But what do you call what has happened/is happening to me? Is there a name for the situation in which I'm in? The one where you can't create viable babies despite your karyotypes being normal? I find myself wondering and searching for the correct words and answers.
I have been trying to keep my mind at ease. I must admit this is the hardest part for me. I find myself googling everything, comparing my baby to others, trying to figure out what was wrong with him and what led to that (even though the doctors repeatedly told me there was nothing I could have done to cause it, and showed me pictures of what a baby with this kind of syndrome looked like since conception). I believe this has a lot to do with me not having any answers. I have not seen a doctor ever since the induction and won't be seeing one until November 17th, where I will see an OB for the follow-up at the BWH, and will be seeing someone from Reproductive Medicine to hear what their input is on our case and how they think we should proceed. I have not even heard anything from the pathology tests yet. I really do hope to get more answers than: "it was just bad luck".
My first loss back in March was a missed m/c, and we did not run any tests as this was my first miscarriage and the doctors said "it was a one time thing that happens often". I ask myself almost every day why we did not do the tests. Why no one suggested we do them. Why my doctors weren't cautious enough to order these tests. I will never know if what caused the death of baby 1 were chromosomal abnormalities or genetic disorders.
So far, all I know is that our "products of conception" are damaged. 2/2. I hear the third time's the charm.
On a happier note, this past week my third niece was born. I managed to go to the hospital and stay there until she was born. She is beautiful, chubby, and perfect. As I saw her take deep breaths, I wondered if I will ever have the chance to have breathing, healthy children. Tears ran down my face as I realized I may never have that. Even though I've been told by doctors that I can, I have also been through enough to know that it's a matter of chance... And that there's a chance I won't have that. I hope my husband's family understands my distance and acknowledges how hard it was for me to be there.
We went away for the weekend to celebrate our anniversary. My brother, his boyfriend, and one of my best friends and her husband came along. On our way there, we spotted a rainbow. I'd like to believe this was our baby's way of saying he's OK, and that it's OK for us to have fun.
I still get upset when I see babies and pregnant women, (and I usually walk the other way when I see one, especially one I know), and more often than not I'm mad at them and am mad at the universe for not giving me a living baby. I'm mad at people who drank and smoke and did everything I did not do and still got a healthy baby... I am jealous of never being able to have a care-free pregnancy. I suppose these thoughts are common among most of us standing in this place I have yet to name.
I know I am not infertile nor struggling with infertility. But what do you call what has happened/is happening to me? Is there a name for the situation in which I'm in? The one where you can't create viable babies despite your karyotypes being normal? I find myself wondering and searching for the correct words and answers.
I have been trying to keep my mind at ease. I must admit this is the hardest part for me. I find myself googling everything, comparing my baby to others, trying to figure out what was wrong with him and what led to that (even though the doctors repeatedly told me there was nothing I could have done to cause it, and showed me pictures of what a baby with this kind of syndrome looked like since conception). I believe this has a lot to do with me not having any answers. I have not seen a doctor ever since the induction and won't be seeing one until November 17th, where I will see an OB for the follow-up at the BWH, and will be seeing someone from Reproductive Medicine to hear what their input is on our case and how they think we should proceed. I have not even heard anything from the pathology tests yet. I really do hope to get more answers than: "it was just bad luck".
My first loss back in March was a missed m/c, and we did not run any tests as this was my first miscarriage and the doctors said "it was a one time thing that happens often". I ask myself almost every day why we did not do the tests. Why no one suggested we do them. Why my doctors weren't cautious enough to order these tests. I will never know if what caused the death of baby 1 were chromosomal abnormalities or genetic disorders.
So far, all I know is that our "products of conception" are damaged. 2/2. I hear the third time's the charm.
On a happier note, this past week my third niece was born. I managed to go to the hospital and stay there until she was born. She is beautiful, chubby, and perfect. As I saw her take deep breaths, I wondered if I will ever have the chance to have breathing, healthy children. Tears ran down my face as I realized I may never have that. Even though I've been told by doctors that I can, I have also been through enough to know that it's a matter of chance... And that there's a chance I won't have that. I hope my husband's family understands my distance and acknowledges how hard it was for me to be there.
We went away for the weekend to celebrate our anniversary. My brother, his boyfriend, and one of my best friends and her husband came along. On our way there, we spotted a rainbow. I'd like to believe this was our baby's way of saying he's OK, and that it's OK for us to have fun.
I am grateful to have had the change to go away and free my mind, at least for a couple of hours. The weather was lovely (perks of living on an island). My husband and I got to spend a lot of time together, which is really complicated for us during the week due to our different schedules. I am so thankful to have married my bestest friend in the world.
Beautiful pictures, and I am definitely jealous of the nice sunny weather. Be sure to pack some warm clothes when you come up to Boston in a few weeks.
ReplyDeleteAs for your feelings, I think they are so normal and typical of women in our situation. I am glad that you seem to feel better overall, and when you have those setbacks and moments of sadness or anger or jealousy, just own them and don't try to suppress them. You've been through so much and are allowed to feel those emotions.
I didn't do any testing on our first baby either, because honestly after being told that it was an "anomaly" and that the rate of having something happen again was so low, I really didn't think I would lost a second baby like that. But the doctors were wrong and so was I. So don't beat yourself up over it.