wordless wednesday

the grass is always greener on the other side-

It's been four weeks. Four weeks of so much pain I think I'm starting to feel numb. Four weeks of pretending I'm OK. Four long weeks during which the world has been constantly reminding me that I failed. Four weeks of overthinking. Four weeks of finding myself so far away from my dream coming true. Four weeks of people announcing pregnancies or giving birth. Four weeks of adapting to a "new normal" that I did not ask for. 

changes in my body:

-have only lost 4 lbs out of the 20 I gained since pregnancy no. 1

-no more breastmilk (actually, my breast are now sagging)

-acne (though a littler better than when I was pregnant)

meds I'm taking: (as prescribed by the doctor after labor)

-folic acid

-prenatals 

-mini-pill: will finish the first pack this week. no side effects so far. I got my "real" period two days ago (had been bleeding since induction though).

-I've been taking sleep medication prescribed by my psychiatrist. Before them, I was getting little to no sleep. My body has now gotten used to them so it is still hard for me to sleep. 

workout:

-weight training 3-4 times a week

-yoga 2-3 times a week

We have yet to receive a call from Genetics with the final results from the baby's testing. Up until now, the karyotype and microarray on the baby were normal. I have a follow-up appointment in Boston on November 17th and I will be picking up the ashes then. 

On another note, my dog Nemo had surgery today to remove a cyst from his back. I broke down at the vet while I waited outside the OR. Every time they opened the door I was expecting bad news. Thankfully, everything went well and he's now sleeping by my side. The cyst was biopsied and the results will be back in two weeks. 

Apparently all I do is wait nowadays. 

even heroes have the right to bleed-

It's Sunday again. 

I still think it's the baby kicking when I have gas or feel something weird in my stomach. I still look down to see my belly, or find myself touching it every now and then. I hate it when my husband touches it, and proceed to tell him (in case he's forgotten)... "it's empty."

That's exactly how I feel... empty. My belly is empty. My heart is empty... I'm empty. 

As if I needed it, my body is a constant reminder that I'm not pregnant. The nonstop bleeding, the breastmilk during the first weeks, the pounds I have not managed to lose. 

I remember how empty I felt when I had the D&C for baby no. 1. This time around, it's much worse. No words make me feel better. There's no light at the end of the tunnel. There's nothing to look forward to. Everything is just dark. 

Some have said to me: "you look better". I smile politely and carry on. What constitutes "better"? What makes them think I'm doing "better"? That I don't walk around work crying? That I don't cry myself to sleep?

I've only cried three times and it's almost been four weeks. I have managed to only let my tears run freely when absolutely necessary, avoiding unsolicited advice or others worrying about me constantly.

And although I don't cry, the heartache and memories are ever present. 

I'm hurting. I'm broken. I'm undone. 

thursday thoughts-

**image from pinterest. 

bruised-

When they say women are from Venus and men from Mars (is that how it goes?), they must be talking about grieve. Nothing can be more different than the way men and women grieve. I know my husband's grieving, that he's sad, that he also wants to have *living* children. But he shows it so... Differently. If he shows it at all.

He has been the greatest support possible. He has been unbelievable, truly... We went through this together. He was there every step of the way. When I forgot how to speak English, he was my translator. He talked to me during the epidural process, he described it to me as I asked what was going on. He cried with me. He held my hand. He had everyone leave the room and asked me to read to our baby as I would have done if none of this had happened.

And even so, he does not understand me. He'll never understand it. He'll never "get it". He'll never understand this feeling. The horrible feeling I can't even put into words. The one only a mother feels. The one I had not felt ever before... and is currently eating my insides all day long.

Every inch of me is bruised.

My brain can't function correctly. All I can think about is being pregnant. Or better yet... staying pregnant. I want a baby so bad I'd risk going through this again to get one.

No, I am not obsessed with being pregnant or having a child. And if you haven't been through this, you don't get to judge. You don't get to tell me it's too soon or that I should wait however long you think appropriate. You don't get to tell me I'm obsessed. You don't get to have an opinion. Period.

I believe you would only understand if you have experienced this yourself... If you have terminated a much wanted the most wanted pregnancy.

My husband doesn't understand me. And I don't blame him. After all, he is a man. He wants us to wait 6-9 months. He wants us to "take it easy". To "have fun", to do "other things".

I get he is scared. Scared to death we go through this again... of seeing me like this, of losing me to depression and coming home to find instead a well of tears. I get it. It's terrifying. It's so effing terrifying there's a fine line between being scared and giving up. And I'm worried. About me, about him, about our relationship. 

Will I be able to be happy until he decides he wants to try again? Will I be OK with "just us"?

a heartbeat at my feet-

This week I started yoga and my 5am workout sessions at the gym again. It sucks to be back; it's a reminder of what I've lost, but it is also pretty helpful. Yoga is my favorite place to be right now. It makes me feel calm and at peace with myself. Sadly it's only three times a week and I can't make it all three days since I usually work at night. Educator by day, designer by night. 

Today's photo challenge is "furry". Here's a throwback of my best friend Nemo. He's been with me for seven perfect years. Seven years of insurmountable loyalty. I am so grateful for his life and for his company. He has seen me at my worst and loves me still. I hope to someday day give back as much love as he has given me. 

everything but laughter-

I visited my shrink for the second time today after our loss. There are no such things as support groups in my area, so it's pretty much all I got. Last week I admitted to him that I didn't think I would be visiting him this year.. (I really didn't think I was going to be visiting him at all); that sitting on his green couch counting his degrees on the wall made me feel defeated. I've lost once again... and this is biggest loss I've had to face in my entire life. I've lost two babies this year. I write it. I sometimes say it out loud. But it's so difficult to understand... to accept.

We were talking about acceptance and he asked a couple of questions like: have I accepted the fact that I am no longer pregnant? And I went all "of course I have accepted it. There's nothing left for me to do" on him. So I told him I thought acceptance depended much on not being angry, and that I was no longer angry. I am just sad, and lonely. He then said that was true in part, but that acceptance also depended on "going back to people".

OK, I got it. I have not accepted it yet... I don't feel like seeing people (and don't think I'll feel like doing so for a fair amount of time), the thought of my own two-year-old brother makes me sad, and I don't want to leave my house unless it's to go to the gym or to work (and I'm no fan of work either, I'm a early childhood education school administrator). But I will. And it's OK if I haven't. It's only been 15 days. 

I am grateful that I have someone to talk to, even if it's his job to listen. I can vent and cry all I want (and I usually don't cry. I talk, A LOT, which is weird for me because I'm not a talker). 

I tend to shut people out every time something happens. I've been doing it my whole life. If it weren't for him, I would probably not talk to anyone, as I feel that no one that's available to talk to me will understand what I'm going through. There's only so much the human brain can understand, and I truly believe if you have not gone through it, you won't be able to understand. 

I will not listen to people tell me that I should move on or that everything happens for a reason. I know that. And I'll do it in my own time and my own pace. 

Today's photo challenge is "laughter". I can do everything but laugh right now. I have laughed after everything that happened, I just don't do it often, and then I usually hate myself for a few minutes after I laugh because I feel I shouldn't be doing so. I know it's silly. 

Today is October 15th, Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. I had ordered candles on Etsy to light tonight and the courier failed to bring one home on time. The other one arrived at my sister in law's (Miami) and she lit it for me and sent me pictures. She also lit her candle in honor of the four babies she lost. I am lighting a candle here at home in memory of our children and my angel nieces and nephews. Forever our babies, forever our angels.

I downloaded the IG app and posted this print to create awareness. Then I deleted the app again. 

candle I had ordered on Etsy. 

candle I lit at home.