One Step Forward...

Wednesday: One of the hardest things about dealing with miscarriage is how long it takes the body to move forward.  Like I said in my last post, it is this inescapable reminder of what will no longer be.  I hate it, and am so angry and hurt about it.  I will be so happy to be through the next week, when (hopefully) the physical part is done.  The other part that will be done is the "last week at this time" types of thoughts.  Last week at this time....I couldn't have a drink on our date night and wasn't one bit upset about it.  Last week at this time, I was missing sushi a little bit, but couldn't eat it.  I definitely had it for lunch today, though :)  Once I get through the next week, I think I will have found more peace, despite the lack of closure we will always have about the Whys and the What Ifs.

Because 50% of miscarriages are related to some chromosomal issue, we made an appointment through a different hospital system to have a karyotype screening, which is a blood test for Matt and I to check our genes and hereditary possibilities for certain special needs.  In the past, we were told that Parker was just a fluke.  At this point, we would just like to be sure that everything is okay with both of us.  It will never tell us with 100% certainty that everything will be fine "next time," should we be so lucky to have a next time.  But, it will at least give us information we have been seeking.

I keep trying to find the lesson in all of this.  The take-away.  I can't.  It has only been a few days since all of this started, so I recognize that I'm not far enough removed from it to see the big picture.  The one thing I have learned is that a LOT of people go through this in silence.  I haven't broadcast it, but the people that are closest to me at work have asked where I've been the last few days.  I am the world's worst liar first of all, but second of all, I hate the silence of this process.  Out of the 6-7 people I have told, 3 of them had miscarriages directly themselves or in their own family, and every single one of them has an extended family member or close friend (many of whom are other co-workers of mine) that have been through this too.  That is an incredible, heart-breaking statistic.

The bottom line is that we will be okay, and we will move on.  We have our happy family, and are hopeful to have more kids in the future.  We will be that much more thankful, then.

Learning to trust your instincts...even when they can't protect your heart.

"The best way to fight quiet is to talk. The best way to fight fear is with information." - Fatherly, from The Mighty

As a disclaimer, I know this is a taboo topic. Women's stories are all over Internet forums, but I almost never see anyone I know publicly share this.  I'm doing so because writing is my therapy, and because the fact that something so common is so hushed drives me crazy.

Written Saturday... 

Some people are so in tune with their gut instincts that they are confidently lead to the path or decision that feels right in such a solid way.  I've never really been like that--in fact, I sometimes envy those people.  I admittedly have a pessimist's mind, mainly for self-preservation.  I fight to have a "growth mindset" every single day.  So when I get little niggling thoughts, I often ignore them or misread them.  When I was pregnant with Parker, I had this feeling that something was wrong. I've written about it before, but in short, what I felt like was risk of miscarriage really turned out to be risk of a different life than we had imagined.  

2 weeks and one day ago, we found out (very early) that I was pregnant.  Parker is almost 4, and we've intentionally, maybe wisely, maybe foolishly, waited until we were stable enough in our lives with him to grow our family. We were nervous, and ecstatic.  Because I was really only 3 weeks and 2 days pregnant, we waited to tell our families.  By last weekend, our sisters and parents all knew- which was lovely- their excitement was so palpable.  But for whatever reason, for the last week or so, I had unfounded anxiety about bleeding.  I checked every time I went to the restroom, nearly holding my breath each time, but still so excited with every day that passed.  

This weekend was going to be packed. Thursday night, my cousin from NJ and his friend came into town. We had a great evening, and were planning to drive together Friday afternoon to Ohio for my mom's birthday.  At work, I was anxious for the day to be over so I could be with and celebrate with family.  Except that morning, my fears were realized, and I saw a small clot of blood in the bathroom.  I panicked.  I ran outside and immediately called my doctor.  The saddest part about being only 5 weeks 2 days pregnant is that it is too early for people to feel any real urgency towards investigating a problem, and despite modern medicine, only so much can be learned or done.  After a 15 minute wait, a nurse called me and asked me to come in for blood work.  5 weeks is too soon for an ultrasound. 

Because I don't work in a private space, I grabbed my things and ran out without saying a word to anyone. I knew I wouldn't be able to hold it together in front of my co-workers.  I made it to the street outside my car before promptly bursting into tears.  Poor Matt was in the middle of picking up Parker from school, literally sitting in the front office, when I called him.  At that point, in my heart, I knew it was done, despite the nurse telling me she's seen the whole spectrum of scenarios, including a successful pregnancy, happen after bleeding.  I didn't "feel" pregnant anymore.

After talking with the nurse and hearing that nothing would change over the weekend until my blood work to be done Monday, and an ultrasound couldn't happen until later next week, we decided to head to Springboro anyway.  On the car ride, the cramps started picking up, and with every bathroom break, the bleeding got worse.  I will never forget the hollowness and despair that experience instills...knowing that you are most likely literally flushing the remnants of your dream down.  

We both cried as we drove, and were thankfully comforted at times by Parker's unknowing comic relief.  Just like with any pain, physical and mental, it is always worse at night.  I couldn't sleep- I could feel what my body was doing, and couldn't shut my mind off.  I kept getting angrier about the cruelty of how the body does this. I'm still pretty angry.  This morning, I waited for the lab call with answers about my blood work, and with it, got my confirmation.  My miscarriage had likely been set into motion a few days before, because my hcg and progesterone were already showing up as too low to sustain a pregnancy. The phone call both dashed the teeny smidge of hope I had left, and brought relief that I had a definitive answer to my experience. I'm thankful I didn't have false hope until Monday.

This clarity has helped make the bleeding and cramping less traumatic, even though I will be so so thankful when it stops. It is so early that my doctor doesn't even need to see me at all unless my pregnancy test still reads positive in a week.  But two weeks is plenty of time to build dreams in your mind.  I kind of wish the doctor would see me, if only to legitimize the magnitude of what has happened to us.  My first instinct is to compare this to others and say- it could have been worse-- that many people have lost babies - some much much further along, and that some can't get pregnant at all.  It is always my go-to move.  I'm trying to remind myself that avoiding grief by belittling your own experience is not okay. 

I'm trying the best I can to accept, process, and move on.  I'm trying to be renewed for planning and trying again.  I'm trying to stop reading online and memorizing statistics, like the 40+% miscarriage rate with PCOS.  And I'm trying not to be so angry that a horribly cruel event gets dragged out by cramping and bleeding for a week.  The constant reminder of what we've lost is infuriating because it is inescapable.  And I'm trying to navigate how to go back to being a productive human being at what is sure to be a busy week at work.  I'm taking Monday off, less for physical discomfort, though that is real, and more for mental health.  I can't imagine passing blood clots while at work and still being effective in those moments.  

Just like everything in adulthood, there is no rule book.  Do I follow the lead of everyone else, and keep this close to chest? Do I tell my supervisors so they understand my absence at this crucial beginning of the school year time?  How do I hide the bitter taste I feel at the hand we've been given? I have no clue. I hope within a week, the rawness goes away and we can step forward on our journey to complete our family.  And I hope to God that this doesn't happen to us again.  I'm sure that fear won't go away any time soon.

Glencoe Beach

We had a BLAST on Sunday with Parker's cousins, Michaela, Finn, and Noelle, and Aunt Michelle and Uncle Sean.  We went to lunch and then hit Glencoe Beach on Lake Michigan.  It was our first time going to one of the lake beaches near Chicago, and we loved it! This summer has been so hot that the water was actually refreshing instead of frigid.  Parker loved going in and splashing and swimming with his cousins.  We will definitely go back!

Summer Close...

As summer time dwindles, I reach that overly-ambitious time of year.  The (short) time where I am re-energized, ready to tackle the major projects at work and home.  It is the rose-colored glasses time, where I am excited, nervous, and ready.  I always pack in way too many things to do during this time.  Education Twitter chats at 9pm? Sure! Volunteer for another committee to plan an educational conference? Awesome! Join more committees at school? Of course! Ask if there is anything I can do to help Parker's teachers? Why not?! 

For whatever reason, this time of year, I am an especially eager "yes-man" (or more accurately, yes-woman).  I always over-commit and pay for it later in the year (usually Spring, when all projects seem to overlap).  I struggle so much with loving the work that I do and wanting to improve in it, and loving being a Mommy, Wife, and Friend, and wanting to get better at those too.  There simply aren't enough hours in the day for everything!

For this year, it is my goal to find balance.  I hope to try and be more thoughtful about what I volunteer for, and also to not feel guilty when I decide to sit and play a game, read a (fun) book, or watch a TV show instead of doing one of those productive things.  The guilt is what really kills me about being a mom.  Does that ever go away? Probably not.

I'm sure next summer's end will bring a similar post, but I can at least keep trying to prioritize and balance time amongst all parts of my life.