Sunday, May 02, 2010

*** Diary of a miscarriage: day 2 after finding out the news

I found out on Friday, April 30th that our pregnancy had failed. Any post that begins with the "***" is part of that storyline. You can choose to read back to the beginning on April 1st or choose to skip those entries.

By the end of the day Friday I was pouring out blood every time I pee'd. OK, maybe its not quite "pouring out" if it sorta ceased when I stood but it really did look like floodgates to me. Maybe its just floodgates when you are psychologically trained to know that being pregnant and blood don't (or shouldn't) go together. Retraining my brain is challenging: This, is what happens when the baby isn't alive.

I'm sort of stuck in limbo. I have too much work to do (deadlines! deadlines!) so I resumed working from home until 5PM the day I found out. It helps to focus on a task and yet it's so eff'ing lame when some co-workers nag me about some shit I am finding trivial in comparison to my current ordeal.

I don't want to eat. I want what's in there to just die off completely, dry up and go away. I'm mad at it.

Friday night, friends offer to come over for a drink. Its been awhile since I've had a glass of wine... I send Rob to the store to pick-up a bottle of red that I like. Two girlfriends join my on the patio after I put Evie down. I feel normal again... no hidden thoughts about "I wonder how pregnant I am? I wonder if the baby's ok? I wonder, I wonder..." All that wasted time I spent thinking about shit I have no control over. That thought later spills over into a soap box lecture I have with Rob the next day after we go to the Chesterfield Berry Farm. I just let a lot of what I had been bottling up spill all over Rob as he lay there trying to take a nap. Just an "open mouth, pour thoughts" kind of rant. I was pissed. I am pissed. This whole situation goes back farther than just this past month. It goes back to when we started trying one year ago this month. How the f*ck could I be so stupid as to put everything on hold WAITING to get pregnant? I put off planning a weekend away with the girls cause "What if I got pregnant?" I put off buying new clothes cause "What if I spend $200 and then get pregnant?" I put off really planning that trip to Europe cause "Well, we were going to try and get pregnant and I'd hate to waste the time only to be in Europe unable to drink or possibly nauseated the whole time."

So, here I am. One year later. Still, fucking, waiting. And you know what? It goes back to when I had Evie. I got back in shape pretty quickly and then just as quickly I noticed this tummy on me. At first I didn't care figuring I looked good for my age but when it began to spill over my pants... when it began to bounce when I walked, when I started to TUCK MY FLAB into my pants while sitting in a meeting at work I thought, "This is freaking unreal." I looks like shit. So here I am, lookin' like shit, feeling like shit and all this cause I put everything on hold cause I was "going to get pregnant again."

Rob listened to my outpouring in a very sympathetic fashion and simply added: "You tend to try to control the things you can't." And, its true.

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