Thank you all for your support. This has been a very difficult week. Often, just thinking about blogging makes me cry, because it makes the whole thing real. I've been in the denial phase, I suppose. Watching a lot of DVDs at nights instead of thinking.
Everywhere I go, I wonder: will this be where I miscarry? Will this be where I lose my baby?
But now, today, I think it will be here, at home. I'm having some spotting and horrible, horrible cramps, and I am not going anywhere. The cramps woke me up this morning, and I decided to just stay home. My husband asked if I wanted him to call in as well, but I told him to just go. In a way, I want this day alone with my baby. 7w6d, technically, and I think it may be my last day.
I'm still crying, a lot.
This year, our wedding anniversary is on Mother's Day. Weeks ago, my husband had told me he was so excited, that it would be such a special day, that he was making secret plans. I assume those plans are cancelled. I will have another babyless, pregnancy-free Mother's Day. We will not have a baby this Thanksgiving. We will not have a baby this Christmas. We will not ring in the New Year with a midnight feeding. We will not be bringing a newborn to my niece's 2nd birthday. We will not celebrate Valentine's Day with our baby in my arms.
How is it that the good can be uncertain, but the bad is horribly set in stone?
Yes, I am wallowing in self-pity. As awful as it sounds: I think I am ready to miscarry. I want to move on from this wait, I want to discuss trying again with our last 2 embryos, I want to stop being afraid that I will see blood. I accept that it is inevitable. My uterus, today, is making that extremely clear. So I want my life back, my hopes back. And I hate myself for feeling this way.
16 comments:
I don't think you're wallowing at all. You're going through an incredibly hard situation but I understand feeling ready for it to happen. Please don't hate yourself for feeling what you feel. Be your own best friend today and think of yourself kindly. I'm sorry you have to go through this.
I stumbled upon your blog somehow a few weeks ago, and I haven't posted until today. You sound so much like me 8 1/2 years ago. I was due with our first the day after Mother's Day 2003, but miscarried that previous October. I hated Mother's Day that year....we planned a cruise for the following Christmas because I couldn't take a second Christmas of misery and I wanted to be somewhere else completely. I was torn between wanting to try again, because I was sure it was the only thing that would make me feel better, and not wanting my baby to go. It was torture, and I am so, so sorry you are there. I hope the actual physical part of the miscarriage is quick and not too painful. The emotional part...I hope that you can find some peace. And I hope you can try again soon.
I am SO incredibly sorry that you are having to endure such pain....I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy. Please know that we are all supporting you 100% and that you are free to say, think, feel, write, etc. whatever you need to right now. We'll be here to read whatever you need us to and then support you.
Wallowing is ok, but it really doesn't sound that way. Do whatever you need to take care of yourself at this time. I admire you, when I found out my baby had died I couldn't stand the thought of waiting. I chose the misiprostal, it was so scary, the anticipation more than the event. I immediately asked for drugs to try and turn off my brain and numb myself. DVDs are good, tv, staying at home. Whatever it takes to get you through. I am so, so, sorry that you have to have this awful experience.
Take care xoxo
I'm so sorry, Marissa. I cried when I read your list of holidays with baby that won't be--I've been there so many times, thinking things like "this is our last Christmas without baby" and then having that not be true. This is post heartbreaking, especially your having to still wait for it to be over. Wishing you healing. So, so sorry you are going thru this.
These are the times that I wish we all could come together and support you in person. But I also understand the desire to just be alone with your baby. Please know that I am thinking of you and hurting for you... you are amazing for enduring this. And not for one second do you sound selfish for wanting to move on... your little one is finding its way to allow it... it's time, and in no way is it selfish or wrong to want to get past such a painful experience. Thinking of you...
My heart is breaking for you. I know this feeling. And it's awful. I think the day I got the news that my betas weren't rising "appropriately" and that a miscarriage was inevitable, I was a complete mess. The wait was horrible. Just knowing what was going to happen. But in the hospital after I "passed" the baby a weird calm came over me. I was immediately hopeful and didnt cry while I was there. The hardest part were the weeks after. Lean on your husband, cry all you want, and try to understand that the hurt will fade. Will never go away, but will fade enough for you to be whole and try again. Hugs...
You are not wallowing. You are going through hell. Be nice to yourself.
I've been thinking about you a lot. Take time for yourself to deal with your loss in anyway that feels right to you, you are not wallowing at all. My thoughts are with you. xoxo
This is a terrible loss. It is only natural that you need to grieve. Be kind to yourself and let yourself go through whatever you need to go through. I have been there, and it is not easy. Wishing you peace and light in your journey.
Oh I am so so sorry to read this. This is just heartbreaking and I know that nothing anyone can say can make it any better. Just know that we are all thinking about you.
hugs, my love.
im so, so sorry.
xoxo
lis
I'm so very sorry that you are going through this. I'm having trouble expressing right now but I feel it, this all can be so very, intimately, hard.
You're not wallowing. You're dealing with a traumatic event, something that hurts beyond...well, beyond our ability to adequately communicate it. You're right about the good and the bad, and it's a horribly unfair thing. But you shouldn't hate yourself for wanting this to be over. It's not the baby you want to be over, it's this horrible end. I have never ever not felt this in your position. As much as I wanted to hold on, I also wanted to be on the other side of it.
And I hope you're on the other side of it tonight, Marissa. It hurts. And it hurts to see. I'm just so sorry.
Just stopping by to let you know that I have been thinking about you. Sending big hugs your way.
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